


Trains

by carolinecrane



Series: Trains [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-02
Updated: 2011-05-02
Packaged: 2017-10-18 21:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 97,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Futurefic. New Directions is in Las Vegas for the last Nationals competition of their high school careers. It's supposed to be a glamorous weekend in Sin City capped by a thrilling come-from-behind victory. Then Kurt wakes up married to Puck on the day of the competition, and it's just the start of their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He couldn't prove it or anything, but Kurt was a hundred percent sure this was all Puck's fault.

The splitting headache was Puck's fault, the ache in every part of his body was Puck's fault, the cheap ring that was probably going to turn his finger green...that was Puck's fault too. He wasn't sure _how_ Puck had caused all this, but he was going to figure it out, and then he was going to make Puck pay.

Just as soon as the room stopped spinning.

Kurt's stomach tilted and he clamped a hand over his mouth, grabbing the sheet and ignoring the muffled protest from the other side of the bed as he scurried to the bathroom and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

And this _so_ wasn't the way he'd intended to spend his weekend in Las Vegas. The plan, such as it was, had been to hit the hotels for some fantastic shopping, take in Celine's show and maybe Cirque du Soleil, if they had time, and help lead New Directions to a spectacular come-from-behind victory at the final competition of their high school careers.

It was Nationals, after all. Nationals in _Las Vegas_ , which should have been a glamorous weekend capped off by a victory for underdogs everywhere. It should not have ended in utter humiliation and oh, God, his father was going to _kill_ him.

Kurt groaned and pushed himself off the white tile floor, his stomach rolling a little before it settled enough to allow him to brace himself against the sink. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and winced, then he leaned over the sink and rinsed his mouth with the complimentary mouthwash left by the hotel staff. When he straightened up again he risked another glance in the mirror, but instead of focusing on his reflection he caught sight of movement in the bathroom doorway.

Puck was leaning against the door frame, one hand on the back of his neck and not a stitch of clothing on his person. Kurt blushed and pulled the sheet a little tighter around his waist, ignoring the way his whole body reacted to the sight of Puck as Kurt turned to face him.

“You okay?” Puck asked, and sure, he _sounded_ like he might actually give a damn, but Kurt had known him long enough to know better.

“Fine,” Kurt snapped, and he was not admiring Puck’s...assets, but his eyes kept betraying him by glancing at Puck’s general waist area. His very naked and oh my God, did Kurt really...with _that_? He shifted his weight nervously, the slight burn in his ass telling him that yes, he did, and Puck must have been pretty careful, because he was a lot less sore than he would have expected.

“You sure? You were pretty drunk last night,” Puck said, as though Kurt needed reminding. He rolled his eyes and crossed to the door, tugging the sheet even tighter and raising his eyebrows until Puck smirked and moved aside to let him pass.

He heard the unmistakable sound of Puck peeing, then water running as he brushed his teeth, and Kurt ran his tongue over his own teeth and wished for his own room and his toothbrush. It was just down the hall, granted, but before he could make anything resembling a graceful exit he had to find his clothes.

He found his Calvin Klein boxer briefs by the bed, reaching down with one hand and ignoring the rolling in his stomach as he straightened up. It was a challenge to pull them on without dropping the sheet still clutched around his waist, but he managed with a minimum amount of embarrassment. He was hunting for his pants when he happened to catch a glimpse of Puck, still very much naked and watching Kurt like he’d never seen him before.

“What?” Kurt snapped before he could stop himself, and when Puck raised one eyebrow at him he blushed all over.

“Where are you going?”

“Where do you think? To preserve what little dignity I have left.”

Finally he located his pants tangled in the end of the comforter, dropping the sheet from around his waist so he could shimmy into them. Once he had them on he glanced over at Puck again, jaw dropping when he realized that not only was Puck watching, but at least part of him was enjoying the show.

Kurt made a sound that could best be described as a whimper and averted his eyes long enough to grab his shirt and struggle into it. He didn’t bother with the series of complicated buttons, and he didn’t bother trying to track down his socks before he pulled his shoes back on. He would have abandoned them altogether, except he knew full well exactly how disgusting hotel carpets were, and he wasn’t about to walk down the hallway barefoot.

“You don’t have to leave,” Puck said, and when Kurt looked at him this time he’d moved a little closer.

Instead of answering Kurt just narrowed his eyes in Puck’s direction, then he reached for his wallet on the bedside table. He hesitated for a second before he picked up the piece of paper he’d found there this morning, folding it and shoving it in his pocket before he turned back toward the door.

Before he got farther than two steps from the bed Puck was standing in front of him, warm and solid and Kurt shivered at a sudden flash of warm lips on his neck and surprisingly gentle hands on his body. But that couldn’t be right; that wasn’t Puck, at least not everything Kurt had ever known about Puck.

He knew Puck’s hands, and granted, he hadn’t felt them on him in a long time, but back when Puck and his entourage were still tossing Kurt in dumpsters and shoving his head in toilets, Puck’s hands had been anything but gentle. So maybe Puck had gotten drunk enough to forget that Kurt wasn’t actually a girl, but that didn’t suddenly change him into a...a nice person or something.

And okay, he’d had his moments over the past few years, but still. That didn’t change his fundamental _Puckness_. Kurt clung to that thought as he met Puck’s gaze, chin jutting out defiantly and his arms crossed over his chest. “Do you mind?”

“Yeah, I do,” Puck answered, and Kurt really wished he wasn’t being quite so naked about it. “Shouldn’t we, like, talk about this?”

“No, we definitely should not talk about it. It was a dumb mistake, and the sooner we forget about it, the better off everyone will be.”

Kurt stepped around him, bracing himself for a hand on his arm to stop him, or maybe just a vaguely homophobic insult in Puck’s low voice. But Puck didn’t try to stop Kurt as he crossed to the door; he didn’t say Kurt’s name or even shout after Kurt that he was a lousy lay anyway. He just stood there and watched Kurt walk out of the room. At least Kurt assumed he did, but he never looked back to find out.

Less than a minute later he was knocking on the door of Mercedes’ room, glancing nervously down the hall in the direction he’d come, lest Puck change his mind and appear in the hallway just as naked as he’d been a few minutes ago. Kurt knocked a little more frantically, and finally he heard grumbling behind the door, and then a chain sliding out of its catch.

“Kurt? What happened to you?”

Kurt pushed past Mercedes, ignoring her scandalized expression and the terrified-looking lump he assumed was Tina in the bed by the window. He waited until Mercedes closed the door before he reached into his pocket and fished out the piece of paper he’d taken from Puck’s room, dropping onto Mercedes’ bed and holding it out to her.

She took it with careful fingers, unfolding it and smoothing it out before she read it. Then she looked at Kurt, taking in his disheveled appearance and the ring on his left hand.

“You married _Puck_?”

~

Puck had no idea where Finn ended up. Crashing with Mike and Artie, he figured, not that Puck was surprised, because he knew how weird Finn was about the whole gay thing. Weird like Puck used to be, back before he figured out that swinging both ways didn’t make him a pussy. Hell, Kurt was the bravest dude he knew, even if he was kind of a bitch sometimes.

In fact, that was kind of what Puck liked about him, and okay, maybe he went for people who were always bitching at him because his mom yelled at him all the time, but whatever. It worked for him, and he’d kind of thought after last night that it worked for Kurt too.

It wasn’t like any of this was Puck’s idea. When Finn suggested the guys go out for a little male bonding, Puck figured they were going to try to get into a strip club or something. Then Finn insisted that Kurt come along, which meant the strip club was definitely out.

And that was okay with Puck, because that sort of thing had stopped being his scene around the time he decided to try out an actual relationship. Thanks to Lauren he’d tried out the whole monogamy thing during junior year, and it turned out it wasn’t so bad. It meant he didn’t get to hook up with random waitresses or cheerleaders or cougars who looked his way, and strippers were definitely off the table, but it meant he got to hang out with somebody who gave a damn -- somebody who wanted to see him again the next day -- and that was kind of nice.

He still had needs, sure, but he kind of liked the idea of getting them fulfilled by the same person all the time. Somebody who _cared_ , and it didn’t work out with Lauren, but at least he’d finally figured out that wanting more than just a quick fuck didn’t make him a loser. And okay, until last night Kurt’s name hadn’t exactly been at the top of the list of people he might want to go steady with, but it wasn’t like Puck had never considered what it would be like to fuck him.

It was impossible to be around Kurt as much as Puck was and not consider it. It was impossible to see him with that Blaine kid, to hear the way Kurt’s voice went all high and his laugh got fake and he fucking _twitched_ like he was afraid the dude might try to bite him -- like that douche had it in him -- and not wonder what Kurt would be like if he could just chill out.

He’d probably be kind of a bitch at first, Puck figured, all ice queen, acting like he didn’t give a damn. But Puck was hot enough to melt ice, and he figured if he ever did decide to find out first-hand what Kurt was like in the sack, it wouldn’t take him that long to bust through Kurt’s defenses.

Turned out he was right about that, though it didn’t go exactly the way he’d figured.

Schue was kind of worthless as a chaperone, but he’d brought the Beiste along for back-up, and it was her who’d pulled Puck aside and told him that if she heard about any of the guys getting too trashed to perform in tomorrow’s competition, she’d make Puck pay for it personally. Which meant he not only had to stay sober, but he had to make sure the rest of those assholes didn’t get caught doing anything stupid.

Easy enough -- boring, but not exactly a challenge -- considering the losers he was dealing with. When Finn suggested they go out for steaks, Puck figured his job was going to be even easier than he first thought. There was no way a restaurant was going to serve them, after all, so he figured they’d eat, get kicked out of a couple casinos, then head back to the hotel to watch porn or something.

That was how it started. Kurt bitched that the steakhouse didn’t have anything on the menu besides steak, so Puck charmed the waitress into bringing him a big-ass salad and a baked potato without all the good stuff on it. Kurt hadn’t exactly been grateful, but he’d looked impressed, and that was something.

He kept looking over at Puck during dinner, anyway, and if Puck looked back every so often, it didn’t really mean anything. He was just bored, because they’d been talking about Nationals for months now, and there wasn’t anything left to say that Rachel hadn’t already said at least a dozen times.

After dinner they did sneak into a casino, which was where the guys scammed their first drink of the night off one of the waitresses. It didn’t take long for the pit boss to see them and have them thrown out, but Puck had heard how strong casinos poured their drinks, and it wasn’t like Kurt had much body weight to spread it around.

By the time they got tossed out of the third casino Kurt was a little tipsy, and when he stumbled on the sidewalk Puck was the one who caught him. Only because he happened to be closest to the guy. And because he was the one whose ass was on the line if any of them did something stupid like fell on their ass and hurt themselves badly enough to get them all disqualified from the competition. It definitely wasn’t anything personal.

Still, Kurt, like, _fit_ against him, and when he leaned heavy against Puck’s side and clutched at his arm, Puck’s stomach did a funny little tap dance. Then Kurt grinned up at him with glassy blue eyes and Puck forgot for a second that he wasn’t supposed to lean in and kiss him. It would have been easy, too, because they were practically the same height, and Kurt was looking at his mouth like maybe that was exactly what he wanted Puck to do.

“You okay, dude?” Puck said instead, grinning when Kurt’s eyes slid closed and he nodded.

“You have a great mouth,” Kurt answered, eyes blinking open again to look at him. “It’s a shame you don’t use it for good instead of evil.”

A second later he was stumbling forward, and it took Puck a few seconds to realize that he was standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring after Kurt. He shook his head and told himself to get a grip, because he’d been single for awhile, sure, but he wasn’t hard up enough to make a pass at Kurt just because he was too drunk to remember that he kind of hated Puck.

Once they got kicked out of their fourth casino, Puck managed to talk them into going back to the hotel. And that would have been an okay plan if Schue had been smart enough to get the hotel to empty the mini-bars in their rooms before they checked in, but Schue really was the most useless chaperone ever.

As soon as they got back to the room Puck fired up some porn, mostly to distract the guys from draining the place dry. And it did slow them down a little, but only until Artie got the idea to make a drinking game out of the porn. Sam and Mike and even Finn were right on board with that idea, and Puck had the sinking feeling it was going to be his ass when the school got the bill for all the overpriced booze his friends were putting away.

The only one not interested in the movie was Kurt, but that was no surprise. Puck thought about leaving him alone, letting him pass out and sleep off the buzz he had going so he wouldn’t be completely wrecked for their performance tomorrow. He even tried to watch the porn for awhile, but his attention kept wandering back across the room, to the bed where Kurt was stretched out and staring at the ceiling.

He was just lying there grinning, like the ceiling of the fucking hotel room was the funniest damn thing he’d ever seen, and Puck was starting to think he’d finally lost it when Kurt turned his head and looked right at Puck. As soon as their eyes met Kurt’s grin faded into a softer smile, kind of shy, maybe, and he pushed himself up on his elbows and just...looked.

Puck wasn’t sure how long they sat there like that. He wasn’t sure how long it took him to work up the courage to stand up, glancing toward the rest of the guys to make sure they were good and distracted before he crossed the room to stop next to Kurt’s bed. And he was just bored, that was all, but that didn’t stop him from looking Kurt up and down before Puck looked him right in the eye.

“How drunk are you?”

Kurt shrugged, then he grinned, and Puck probably should have taken that as ‘too drunk’. He’d never been all that good at reading between the lines, though, and maybe that was why he let Kurt pull him down onto the bed. Maybe that was why he didn’t stop when Kurt murmured _I am_ so _going to regret this in the morning_ right before Puck kissed him.

Then Kurt was kissing him back, and there wasn’t anything cold about it at all. It didn’t feel all that much like he was planning to regret it, either. Kurt’s lips were soft against his, hands warm against his skin and it was easy to forget the reason he shouldn’t be doing this. Easy to forget the fact that there were four other guys in the room, and any second now one of them was bound to notice the two guys making out on the bed behind them.

He forgot about everything except kissing Kurt, the way Kurt’s lips parted under his and the way Kurt’s body fit against him. The way he arched up into Puck, hands on Puck’s shoulders and then the back of his neck, stroking across his scalp and sending little shivers down Puck’s spine.

It felt good, like Kurt wanted _him_ , like maybe he’d been thinking about doing this with Puck for awhile. And sure, they saw each other often enough, mostly when Puck was over at his house hanging out with Finn. But they didn’t really hang out, so if Kurt had been thinking about this it probably hadn’t been all that hard to keep Puck from noticing.

Or maybe he just wasn’t paying attention, because Kurt was kissing him back like his life depended on it. His hands were all over the place, touching every part of Puck he could reach. Like he couldn’t get close enough, and Puck knew how quickly this could get out of hand. He pulled back, straining against a surprisingly strong grip so he could look down at Kurt.

“You want to take this somewhere a little more private?”

For a second Kurt just blinked up at him like maybe he wasn’t exactly sure what was happening. Then he frowned, looking a lot more sober all of a sudden, and when he shook his head Puck felt his stomach drop.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt’s hands curled around the cup of coffee Mercedes handed him, though he was fairly sure he fell a little short of a grateful smile. He didn’t ask her where she’d gotten the coffee; he didn’t really care, because the fact remained that somehow he’d lost his mind long enough to _marry Noah Puckerman_.

“It’s not legally binding,” he said for probably the tenth time since he’d showed up at Mercedes’ door. “It doesn’t actually _mean_ anything.”

“That’s true,” Rachel said, and Kurt was too shell-shocked to wonder when Mercedes had had the time to round up all the girls to bear witness to his humiliation. “There are only six states that legally recognize gay marriage, and Nevada isn’t one of them.”

The fact that she was right didn’t make him feel any better, unsurprisingly. He knew as well as she did that Nevada didn’t recognize gay marriage any more than Ohio did, but somehow telling himself that over and over didn’t make it _feel_ any less real. The fact that he was fairly sure they’d consummated their sham of a marriage probably didn’t help.

Not that he’d mentioned that part to the rest of them. Judging by the way Santana was looking at him, he was pretty sure she’d already put two and two together, but at least she hadn’t said anything yet.

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Kurt said, glancing from one wide-eyed face to the next. “It was just a stupid joke, and it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t had too much to drink last night. Puck’s probably forgotten about it already.”

“Did you fuck him?”

Kurt’s head snapped up at the sound of Santana’s voice, and he hated himself a little for blushing at the way she looked him over. “I fail to see...”

“Because if you fucked him,” she said, talking over him like she hadn’t even heard him, “then he hasn’t forgotten.”

“Oh my God, you slept with _Puck_?” Mercedes said, and Kurt stopped just short of rolling his eyes.

“I think we’ve already established that I wasn’t myself last night, Mercedes.”

And the thing was, he didn’t really regret sleeping with Puck so much as he regretted not being able to remember. Kurt wasn’t blind, after all, which meant he was well aware of how attractive Puck was. He tried not to dwell on it, mainly because he’d already reached his limit of hopeless crushes on even more hopelessly straight jocks, but it was impossible not to notice when Puck was at his house at all hours, hanging around with Finn and _breathing_ in Kurt’s vicinity.

Still, he didn’t expect to find out what it would be like to kiss Puck, to touch him and be touched, and the fact that he’d done all that and couldn’t remember...well, it hardly seemed fair. He closed his eyes again, swallowing hard against another flash of hands on his skin, on his back and his arms, his own hands curling a little harder around the coffee cup when he remembered the feeling of fingers sliding between his own.

None of that happened; it couldn’t have, because if it had Kurt wouldn’t have forgotten. There was no way the universe was cruel enough to let him forget his one chance with Puck. Then again, the universe had proven over and over exactly how cruel it could be, so Kurt shouldn’t even be surprised.

~

Finn stumbled back into their room sometime after Kurt left. Puck wasn’t sure when or how long ago Kurt had left, exactly, but he’d had time to figure out that yeah, Kurt definitely wasn’t coming back. So he took a shower and he put on some clothes, told himself that he probably should have expected things to play out this way, and he was on his way to find some breakfast when the door to the room opened and Finn more or less fell in.

“Dude,” he said when he saw Puck, and judging by the goofy look on his face, Puck figured he was still a little drunk. “I had the weirdest dream last night.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Puck said, because he knew exactly what Finn was getting at, and there was no way he was going to stand there and listen to Finn laughing about it like it was all some big joke.

He knew he shouldn’t _care_ , because it wasn’t like he was in love with the guy or something, but still. It wasn’t a fucking joke.

“No, dude, just listen. This is so crazy...”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Puck said again, scowling now and he wasn’t going to hit Finn or anything, because they still had a performance to get through. But he kind of wanted to hit _something_. “You assholes got drunk last night, then we all went down to the Viva Las Vegas Chapel and I married Kurt. No joke.”

He held up his hand, the ring Kurt had put on him last night catching in the morning light. Finn’s eyes went wide, and it would have been kind of funny, except Puck was standing there by himself, and he had no idea where Kurt had fucked off to. And the whole thing was crazy, because Kurt was the one who’d wanted Puck to prove he was serious, and now Kurt was the one who wanted to forget it had ever happened.

He’d called it a _mistake_ , and yeah, okay, maybe they shouldn’t have gotten married, but Puck didn’t get why that meant they couldn’t even talk about it.

“You and Kurt...” Finn said, frowning at him, and he didn’t look so drunk anymore. He looked confused, but that was pretty much Finn’s normal look, and anyway Puck wasn’t all that interested in what Finn thought. “Since when are you dating my brother?”

“We aren’t. I mean, we weren’t,” Puck answered, and now _his_ head was starting to hurt. He’d gone over the whole less-than-straight thing with Finn at the end of the summer before their senior year, and it had made things kind of weird between them for awhile, but he was glad now that they could skip the ‘since when are you gay?’ part of the conversation, at least.

“Look, I just wanted to make out with him. But then he got the whole wedding idea in his head, and yeah, that was kind of my fault, but he just looked so cute, you know? I couldn’t take it back.”

Finn was looking at him like he was crazy, but the thing was, it was true. Kurt looked pretty cute all the time – except when he was righteously pissed about something, then he just looked hot – but when he looked up at Puck with that sad little frown and said, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” Puck knew there wasn’t a lot he wouldn’t do to talk Kurt into it.

At first he’d been worried that Kurt stopped him because he really had had too much to drink. Puck had pulled back to a safe distance on the bed, propped up on one elbow and watching Kurt. "You're not going to puke on me, are you?"

"No. It's not you. I mean, it is you, but that's the whole problem,” Kurt said, shaking his head and pushing himself up into a sitting position, and Puck wasn’t entirely convinced that he wasn’t going to puke. “I've done this before, with Finn."

"You made out with Finn?"

"No,” Kurt said, blushing bright red and even that was pretty cute. “I had a stupid, embarrassing crush on Finn, and I built up this whole relationship in my head. I did the same thing with Blaine, and he didn't want me either.”

Kurt paused, head tilting to the side like he was remembering something, and Puck wanted to kick Blaine’s ass for not seeing what was right in front of him. Then again, if he had they might still be together, and Kurt might never have come back to McKinley, and Puck wouldn’t be here right now, trying to convince Kurt Hummel to make out with him.

“I mean, at least he's gay, right?” Kurt said, then he bit his lip and sort of frowned. “I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse, to be honest."

Puck wasn’t entirely sure he was following the conversation, but he knew Kurt wasn’t smiling at him anymore, and thinking about dudes who didn’t want him was going to ruin the mood faster than the porn playing on the TV across the room.

"Okay, but _I_ want you, so what's the problem?" Puck asked, pushing himself into a sitting position and reaching out to rest a hand on Kurt’s thigh.

"You say that now, but what happens tomorrow?” Kurt said, gaze swinging toward Puck and he was a little unfocused, but he was smiling again, so Puck figured that was progress. “If I sleep with you it'll be amazing, and you'll always be my first, which means I'll always be a little in love with you, and you'll just forget about your big gay experiment and move on. I'm not going to be another notch in your bedpost, Noah."

He shouldn’t have been surprised that Kurt was looking for some kind of commitment. Kurt was too good to be just a roll in the hay; everybody knew that. Hell, Puck had known that even back when he was tossing Kurt in the dumpster, which was why he gave Kurt the respect of a standing appointment on the first day of the week instead of just surprising him with random tosses. At least that gave him the chance to plan his wardrobe accordingly.

“Who says I want a one-time thing here?” Puck asked, grinning when Kurt’s eyes got a little wide. “Hell, it's Vegas, you wanna go get married first?"

"Don't make fun."

"I'm not,” he said, and when Kurt frowned and looked down, Puck reached out without thinking to slide a hand under his chin. "Kurt, I'm not. I mean, I want to fuck you, sure. I'll take one night if that's all you're offering, but if you want me to prove that I'll still want you tomorrow, then I'll prove it."

He wasn’t sure _how_ he was going to prove it. Marrying Kurt would make a point, sure, but it wasn’t like Kurt was going to go for that.

Puck wasn’t even sure how he felt about it. Maybe if he’d had a few drinks, but he was the sober one here, and that meant he was the one who was supposed to stop the rest of them from doing anything stupid. But the thing was, he’d done plenty of sleeping around, and it felt good in the moment, sure, but he kind of liked the idea of having somebody who gave a damn about _him_. He kind of liked the idea of hooking up with Kurt more than once, too, and if Kurt was already throwing around words like ‘love’, Puck knew that meant he gave a damn.

“My God, you’re serious,” Kurt said, and Puck blinked and focused on Kurt again.

“I just told you I was. What, you don’t believe me?”

Kurt shook his head, just looking at Puck for a second, like maybe he wanted to say something he wasn’t sure Puck wanted to hear. Then he was on his knees, only he wasn’t crawling into Puck’s lap and demanding Puck take him somewhere private like he was supposed to. Instead he was moving away, over the edge of the bed and swaying a little when his feet hit the floor.

“Okay,” he said, hands on his hips and his chin sticking out, and even that was kind of cute. “Put your money where your mouth is, Puckerman. And I don’t want some tacky Elvis wedding.”

~

Kurt still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to extricate himself from the collective clutches of the female members of New Directions, but how he managed to escape wasn’t important. What was important was that he was alone in his own room...well, alone in the bathroom, or more specifically, the shower. Sam was still snoring in his bed, but he hadn’t stirred when Kurt let himself into the room, and Kurt would have thanked the universe for small favors if he wasn’t already so furious at it for getting him into this mess in the first place.

He let the water run over him, turning it as hot as he could stand and letting his skin turn pink from the heat. The whole bathroom filled with steam and he was tempted to lean back against the tiles, but there was no telling how long it had been since anyone actually washed them.

Kurt wrinkled his nose and reached for his shampoo instead, closing his eyes and trying to focus on the feeling of the water on his skin and not the vague memories that kept sneaking up on him. And he _did_ wish he could remember, but there was a part of him that thought that maybe it was better if he didn’t. Maybe it was better if he didn’t know what he was missing, especially considering it was never going to happen again.

He ignored the nagging feeling that if he could just remember _how_ it had happened, maybe this whole situation would make a little more sense. Except there was no universe in which waking up _married to Noah Puckerman_ could possibly make sense, he reminded himself, then he ducked back under the water to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

It didn’t make any sense that Puck wanted him at all, whether it was for a night or...but ‘forever’ wasn’t part of the equation, because that piece of paper with their signatures on it didn’t actually mean anything. It was just a joke -- a bad one, granted, but a joke nonetheless -- and he was sure Puck was busy laughing about it with Finn and Mike right now.

Or maybe he was laughing about it with Santana, and Kurt pushed down a surge of...something at the thought that maybe Santana would refuse to touch him now that he’d been tainted by Kurt’s gay. He ignored the fact that as far as anyone knew, Puck hadn’t slept with Santana since junior year, and at this point they’d mostly settled into a strange, sometimes adversarial friendship.

He ignored the fact that he knew what Puck did with his free time these days; namely, he hung around Kurt’s house playing video games with Finn. When he wasn’t doing that...well, no one could prove it, but the rumor was that Puck had been letting Artie tutor him for awhile now. He’d actually been showing up for classes this year, anyway, and that was a big enough change to make anyone sit up and take notice.

Still, none of that meant that Puck was serious about _Kurt_. They’d all just had too much to drink, and if Puck’s pride was hurt by the fact that Kurt wasn’t clinging to him and begging him not to take it back, that was just too bad. He wasn’t about to stroke Puck’s ego, and he certainly wasn’t thinking about stroking any other parts of Puck.

Kurt flushed and reached for his shower gel, taking a moment to be thankful for the endless hot water supply provided by the hotel before he reached for the natural sea sponge he’d brought from home. Carefully he washed the smells of sex and Puck off him, along with a layer of alcohol-induced sweat. His head was still pounding even after the cup of weak coffee Mercedes had conjured up, and all he wanted was to make himself presentable enough to go in search of more caffeine.

Leaving his room meant the chance that he’d run into Puck again, but if he stayed here Sam was bound to wake up eventually, and then he’d probably want to talk about what happened. And Kurt really didn’t want to talk about it, not with Sam or Mercedes or Finn or even Puck. _Especially_ not Puck. But they still had their final rehearsal and then the competition ahead of them, so Kurt knew he couldn’t avoid Puck forever.

He sighed and turned off the shower, then he reached for a thick hotel towel. Something caught his eye as he pulled his hand back, and Kurt frowned down at the ring still on his finger. In the excitement of breaking the news to Mercedes and Tina and then all the other girls, he’d forgotten that he still hadn’t taken it off. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from, but he assumed wherever they’d gotten married provided all the details like rings and flowers and God, there was photographic evidence of this somewhere.

Kurt frowned and pulled the ring off, staring at it for another second before he forced himself to put it down on the bathroom counter. It didn’t feel strange to take it off; until last night he’d never worn a ring before in his life, and anyway it didn’t actually _mean_ anything. He wasn’t married to Puck, and wearing some cheap gold band didn’t change that.

He took his time with his moisturizing routine, and if his gaze wandered to the ring still lying on the counter every now and then, it was just because the tacky yellow gold kept catching the harsh bathroom light. Once he was dressed and his hair was more or less under control he frowned at the ring one last time, then he forced himself to turn around and walk out of the bathroom.

Sam was still snoring softly on the opposite side of the room, and Kurt held his breath as he crossed to the door and reached for the knob. Before he could pull the door open there was a loud knock, and Kurt jumped and then closed his eyes when Sam grumbled something and lifted his head off the pillow. And that was just great, because chances were that it was Puck on the other side of the door, and Kurt really didn’t want an audience for this conversation.

He took a deep, calming breath, steeling himself against the sight of Puck standing there _brooding_ at him before he opened the door. Only it wasn’t Puck standing in front of him when he got the door open; it was Finn, a confused frown marring his boyish features as he pushed past Kurt into the room.

“Dude, did you really marry Puck?”

“Apparently,” Kurt said, his thumb unconsciously tracing his newly naked finger. “I don’t actually remember.”

“Weird. I thought it was all a crazy dream.”

Kurt opened his mouth to say ‘I wish’, but before he got the words out he heard Sam’s voice behind him.

“You married him, all right. You seemed pretty stoked about it at the time, too. To tell you the truth I didn’t expect to see you back here until it was time to pack.”

Sam pushed the covers back as he spoke, then he climbed out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. Like there was nothing weird at all about the idea of Kurt moving into Puck’s room -- into his _bed_ \-- for the weekend, let alone the fact that they’d gotten married. With half of New Directions in attendance, apparently.

Sam didn’t bother closing the bathroom door, and after more than half a year at Dalton, Kurt should probably be used to the way straight boys were around each other, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to listening to someone else pee. An image of Puck standing in the bathroom door stark naked invaded his memory, and he blushed hard and tried not to think about just how good he looked without his awful clothes.

“So what’d he do wrong?” Finn asked, and Kurt frowned and looked up.

“What?”

“Puck. I mean, I know he can be kind of a jerk, but he’s been trying pretty hard not to be that guy anymore. He must have done something, though, because he says you told him to forget it ever happened and stormed out. But if you guys got married you can’t just forget it, can you?”

“We didn’t really get married,” Kurt said, ignoring the way his chest tightened at the words. “Not legally, anyway. It was just a ceremony; the state of Nevada doesn’t recognize gay marriage.”

“Yeah, but still,” Finn said, still frowning at Kurt like he really didn’t get it, and that, at least, was familiar enough to be sort of comforting. “He seemed pretty bummed that you wanted to just forget it.”

“He’ll get over it.” Kurt rolled his eyes and turned away, mostly so he wouldn’t have to watch Finn frown at him anymore. It was clear that he didn’t get it, so it was no surprise that he’d misunderstood Puck’s reaction as well. If he was upset about anything it was probably the fact that he’d gotten drunk enough to kiss another guy in front of all his friends, and why didn’t either of them seem surprised about that, anyway?

Before he could ask Sam emerged from the bathroom in his boxers, six-pack on full display and his ridiculous hair looking even more ridiculous than usual. “I don’t know, dude. He seemed pretty into you last night.”

Kurt frowned at his back as he watched Sam pull on a pair of jeans. He was too distracted to enjoy the flex of Sam’s muscles across his shoulders, and when he caught himself thinking that he was married now and he shouldn’t be looking at other men anyway, he blushed harder than ever.

“Puck is not _into_ me.”

It was sort of worth the reminder that he was pretty sure Puck _had_ been at some point last night when Finn paled and made a weird choking sound. Sam just laughed and flashed Kurt one of those smiles he usually reserved for trying to score chicks, then he pulled a shirt over his head.

“We don’t really need the details, dude, but hey, I’m happy for you. You guys make a weird sort of sense, if you think about it.”

He didn’t want to know, he really didn’t. What he wanted was the suspension of disbelief required to pray for strength, but he wasn’t going to get that either. Instead he closed his eyes and counted to five, then he opened them again and fixed them both with his best glare.

“There’s nothing about this situation that makes any sense. Just do me a favor and forget it ever happened, okay? I’m sure Puck already has.”


	3. Chapter 3

Puck made it down to the lobby in time to catch the hotel’s complimentary Continental breakfast. He wasn’t sure what that meant, exactly, but there were waffles, so he figured it didn’t really matter. And yeah, okay, he was kind of confused about why Kurt had bailed on him and told him to forget last night ever happened, considering the whole thing had been his idea in the first place. But hey, a guy had to eat, and he could brood just as well over a fresh stack of waffles as he could alone in his room.

He was pouring syrup when someone sat down across from him, and Puck’s heart skipped a beat when he looked up. But it wasn’t Kurt looking nervous and embarrassed but kind of hopeful. Instead Puck found himself staring back at Mercedes, and she didn’t look all that happy to see him.

“What?” he asked, setting the syrup down and picking up his fork, because if he was going to get bitched at, he wasn’t doing it on an empty stomach.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Puckerman. What did you do to my boy?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything. He’s the one who practically dared me to marry him, then freaked out and told me to forget it ever happened.”

She had her arms crossed over her chest and her best bitch face on, and Puck had seen that look enough times to know she wasn’t buying it. But it was the truth, and if she didn’t want to believe him that wasn’t really his problem.

“Look, go ask your boy if you don’t believe me.”

Mercedes rolled her eyes, but she looked a little less sure than she had a few seconds ago. “Like I’d be here if he remembered what happened.”

For a second he just stared at her, but when she didn’t flinch he figured she wasn’t just saying that to get him to admit he’d fucked up somehow. Which meant Kurt really didn’t remember how they’d ended up married, and Puck groaned and ran a hand over his face.

“Fine, go ask one of the guys. They were all there. One of them has to remember something.”

“Wait a second,” Mercedes said, her eyes narrowing again and Puck knew this couldn’t be good. “You mean to tell me you not only got trashed and married my boy, but you invited the guys and didn’t bother telling any of the girls?”

“It was kind of a last-minute thing,” Puck answered. “And I wasn’t trashed. The rest of them were a little drunk, but I didn’t think Kurt was that far gone. If I’d known he was going to forget the whole thing I wouldn’t have gone through with it. The Puckzilla experience is usually pretty memorable, you know?”

She rolled her eyes again, but a second later she was right back to frowning at him. “You mean you weren’t drunk?”

“No, Beiste said she’d have my ass if I let anybody get too trashed to perform,” Puck said, scowling at the waffles that had probably already gone cold anyway. “He really doesn’t remember _anything_?”

Mercedes shrugged and flashed a little smile that told him she felt sort of sorry for him. “That’s what he said.”

He was pretty sure that if Kurt was going to tell anybody the truth, it would be Mercedes. Which meant he really didn’t remember anything, not shutting off the porn and announcing that they were all going back out, not taking Puck’s hand and dragging him down the strip in search of an all-night chapel that fit his standard of ‘not too tacky’. He didn’t remember the challenge in his expression when they ended up in the lobby of the Viva Las Vegas Wedding Chapel, or the fact that Puck had pulled him aside and told him they didn’t have to go through with this just to prove a point.

Which meant he didn’t remember quirking a little smile at Puck and saying, “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out, Puckerman.”

He probably didn’t even remember kissing Puck again, which meant he didn’t remember the way Puck laughed and grinned at him like a fucking moron and said, “Okay, what the hell, let’s get married.”

Puck nodded and pushed his chair back, then he stood up and picked up his mostly untouched breakfast.

“Where are you going?” Mercedes asked, turning in her chair to watch him dump his breakfast in the trash.

“We’ve got rehearsal,” was all he said, then he walked away before she could answer.

~

Kurt waited until the last possible moment to slip into the rehearsal room. Not that he flattered himself that Puck was laying in wait to corner him; chances were good Puck really had forgotten all about their ill-fated night together, and if he hadn’t, he probably wished he could. Kurt swallowed a sigh at the thought and squared his shoulders, chin held high as he pushed the door open and walked into the room.

As soon as he stepped inside all conversation stopped, and Kurt rolled his eyes and willed himself not to blush as he made his way to the back of the room and took a seat. He told himself he didn’t blame them; there was only so much obsessing they could all do about the competition, after all, and gossip this good couldn’t go unnoticed for long. So they were all laughing about his drunken moment of weakness; chances were that it would be a lot worse for Puck when they got back to McKinley, and for a second Kurt almost felt sorry for him.

The rehearsal room door opened again, and Kurt glanced up before he could stop himself. He watched Puck walk into the room, scanning faces until he spotted Kurt. As soon as their eyes met Kurt looked away, but he wasn’t fast enough to miss the look on Puck’s face. His heart skipped a beat and he willed Puck to take a seat on the opposite side of the room and just pretend he didn’t even know who Kurt was, but he wasn’t surprised when Puck dropped into the seat next to his instead.

“Kurt...”

“Don’t,” Kurt said, his voice coming out in a weird hiss and he felt his whole face heat up. The rest of the room was pretending not to listen so hard that Kurt could practically hear them holding their breath, and there was no way he was going to do this in front of all of them. “Just leave it, okay?”

“No, it’s not fucking okay,” Puck said, and Kurt would have been ashamed of the little shiver that rolled through him if he wasn’t too busy dying of humiliation over the fact that the entire glee club was listening to them.

Before Kurt could answer the door opened again, and Mercedes hurried in followed by Mr. Schue. For a second Kurt thought Mercedes was going to come sit with him, but as soon as she spotted Puck her eyes went wide, then she changed directions and slid into the seat next to Tina. Kurt frowned at the back of her head, but there was nothing he could do about the fact that even his so-called best friend was clearly determined to abandon him in his hour of need.

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest and edged away from Puck, trying to ignore the way Puck was _vibrating_ in the seat next to him. He wasn’t any happier about this whole mess than Puck was, but that didn’t make it his fault, and he certainly wasn’t going to put up with Puck’s unfocused rage.

“Okay,” Schue said, hands clasped together in front of him and that stupid, excited smile lighting up his face. “Today’s the big day. I want to run through the whole performance from the top, just to make sure everybody knows their part.”

As though they hadn’t already done that very thing a hundred times, Kurt thought, rolling his eyes and wishing that he’d just blown off rehearsal. Only Schue had given him the solo this year, and when Rachel tried to take it back Schue had put it up for a vote, which meant that the entire team -- Puck included -- was counting on him to carry them to a win. Even if they’d only voted for him because they didn’t want to see Rachel get another solo, they’d still voted for him, and he couldn’t just abandon his responsibility because of one moment of weakness.

Kurt frowned at a hazy memory of Puck’s hand on his elbow, Puck’s chest radiating heat as he asked if Kurt was sure about something. And that couldn’t be right, because the next sensation his memory supplied was warm lips pressing against his and then Puck’s smile, up close and sending heat to Kurt’s extremities when he said, “Okay, what the hell.”

He stole a glance at Puck, breath catching in his throat when he found Puck watching him. His hands were folded in front of him, elbows resting on his knees and when Kurt glanced at his left hand and saw the ring still on Puck’s finger, his heart clenched hard in his chest. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, turning toward the front of the room and glaring defiantly at the ten pairs of eyes that weren’t even bothering to pretend they weren’t watching.

“What?” he snapped, flushing when they all jumped and turned away.

“Guys,” Mr. Schue said, frowning at the entire group for a second before he continued. “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” Kurt said in the same moment that Rachel said, “I think the group is worried that the recent change in Kurt and Noah’s relationship is going to affect our performance tonight.”

“We should have had her fitted for a muzzle in sophomore year,” Kurt said under his breath, and the answering laugh from his left surprised him into looking up at Puck.

His mouth was quirked in a crooked smile, the one that made him look at once younger and even more handsome than he usually did. Kurt’s heart picked up speed and he was _not_ going to swoon just because Puck had laughed at his dumb joke, but he had a weird feeling that they’d spent a lot of time laughing at some point last night.

“Guys, we don’t have time for fighting right now,” Schue was saying, frowning at the back row of chairs and Kurt rolled his eyes again. “Whatever problem you have with each other, you’re just going to have to table it until after the competition.”

“Oh, they’re not fighting,” Rachel said, though even she didn’t really look that sure. “They got married last night.”

He wasn’t surprised to see Schue doing his fish impression. He wasn’t even surprised at the whispering that started up almost instantly, or the glances the rest of them kept throwing over their shoulders at him and Puck. And it was all ridiculous, because everyone in the room knew that it was all just a dumb, drunken mistake, and Kurt certainly wasn’t going to let it affect his performance.

“Would everyone please stop saying that?” he heard himself say before he even realized he was thinking it. “I am not married to Puck. Just because some idiot signed a piece of paper doesn’t make anything legally binding. So if you don’t mind, I’d prefer that we forget about it and get on with rehearsal.”

By the time he finished they were all staring again, but he knew he was right, so he just stared right back at them. Which was why he didn’t notice Puck moving until he was out of his chair, knocking it over in the process and crossing the room in a few short strides to pull the door open. He didn’t look back as he stormed out of the room, and Kurt told himself that he was just mad that everyone knew already.

He was probably already freaking out at the thought of what happened when they got back to school and the football team found out; never mind that his high school football career had ended with the playoffs in January. Puck had always been about his reputation -- at least he had in Kurt’s experience -- so it probably still mattered to him that people were going to be talking about him hooking up with McKinley’s resident homo.

That didn’t explain the glares from the rest of the group, though, and Kurt crossed his arms even harder over his chest as they all narrowed their eyes at him.

“Dude, that was cold,” Sam said, as though he even had a clue what he was talking about.

“Does this mean they’re getting a divorce?” Brittany whispered in that voice that sounded a little like her heart was breaking.

“Seriously, why not just kick him in the junk?” Santana added, her arm around Brittany’s shoulders, and Kurt would have laughed, except that she looked as though she actually meant it.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kurt said, glancing at Mercedes for support, but she was just shaking her head sort of sadly.

“I talked to him, Kurt. He said he wasn’t even drinking last night.”

And okay, Kurt had been working on the assumption that Puck was drunk when he’d agreed to get married, but the fact that he’d been sober...well, it didn’t really change anything, did it? It was still just a dumb joke, and even if he had meant it -- which he definitely hadn’t, because hello, they were talking about _Puck_ here -- they all knew it wasn’t an actual _marriage_.

“Shouldn’t someone go after him?” Finn asked, and Kurt didn’t miss the furtive glance in his direction. “I mean, we can’t really rehearse without him, can we?”

“Let’s start with the girls’ number,” Schue said, but he kept looking at Kurt too, and if Kurt didn’t have a solo to worry about he would have followed Puck’s lead and walked out too. “Maybe he’ll come back after he has a little time to cool down.”

Not that it mattered to Kurt, because it was none of his business what Puck did, but he had a feeling they shouldn’t hold their breath.

~

Puck didn’t really feel that bad about bailing on rehearsal. He was just window dressing, as usual, mostly there so they had a high enough head count to qualify. At least Rachel wasn’t singing the solo again; that was something, anyway, and when Schue had put it up to a vote Puck had written down Kurt’s name because he figured Kurt deserved it. He’d put up with enough shit from the rest of the school, anyway, and he’d never even really gotten an apology, so if he wanted the solo, Puck figured he should get it.

That didn’t mean he needed to stick around and listen to it again, though. Anyway he knew his part, so it wasn’t like he was going to get on stage and freeze up or anything. And he’d show up for the actual competition; he wasn’t a big enough asshole to get them disqualified from Nationals just because Kurt had decided he didn’t want Puck after all.

And so what if he didn’t; it wasn’t like Puck was going to lose any sleep over it. He just didn’t need to sit there and listen to the rest of them talking about his relationship -- marriage, whatever -- like it was any of their business.

If this had happened a year ago he’d be on his way to a solid drunk by now. The idea was kind of tempting, but if he showed up drunk for the competition they’d get disqualified _and_ he’d have The Beiste to answer to. He could probably find somebody to hook up with if he tried hard enough, some bored housewife down by the pool, maybe, or a tourist looking for a little adventure on their trip to Sin City.

The problem was that the idea wasn’t even all that appealing anymore, not after last night. He’d spent one night with Kurt, and they hadn’t even done all that much, but it was still the best night he’d had in a long time. Maybe ever, considering Kurt was still there when he woke up.

It would have been better if Kurt had stayed and let Puck refresh his memory of their wedding night, but that didn’t mean he regretted it. Except he must have done _something_ wrong, because Kurt wouldn’t even talk to him, and he seemed pretty determined not to remember.

Thinking about it made him want to hit stuff, though, and he was pretty sure that would get them disqualified from Nationals too. So instead he went back to his room and stretched out on his bed to stare at the ceiling. And the sheets didn’t smell like Kurt or anything lame like that, but Puck could picture him there, the way his hair fell over his forehead and the paleness of his skin against the white sheets.

He could still hear the little noises Kurt made when Puck went down on him, and considering it was the first time he’d blown Kurt, he’d sort of thought it was pretty memorable. Except it turned out it wasn’t; at least it wasn’t memorable enough to make an impression on Kurt, and it turned out that mattered more to Puck than he expected it to.

He was still lying on his bed an hour later when someone knocked on the door, and Puck let out a sigh and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He knew it was only a matter of time before somebody came looking for him, and he wasn’t dumb enough to hope that it was Kurt.

Sure enough, when he pulled the door open Rachel was standing on the other side, looking annoyed and kind of worried at the same time. “You’re not blowing this for me, Puckerman.”

“Chill,” he said, and it was kind of hard not to laugh in her face. “Just because I bailed on rehearsal doesn’t mean I’m going to blow off the actual show.”

“Good. Then you should be downstairs getting dressed,” she said, frowning at him for another second before she continued. “Noah, are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he said, but he let her pull him out of his room and down the hall to the elevator.

“Well, Kurt was less than sensitive during rehearsal. Obviously your relationship comes as a bit of a shock, but you didn’t deserve to be dismissed out of hand like that. Anyone would have been hurt in your shoes.”

Puck shrugged and let her steer him onto the elevator, then he settled against the back wall and let her hit the button for the ground floor.

“So he sobered up and decided he couldn’t handle Puckzilla after all. His loss, right?”

Rachel pursed her lips at him, and he checked the urge to roll his eyes. “You married him, Noah. And I know you weren’t drunk, because you told Mercedes so.”

And okay, he probably shouldn’t have married the guy. It wasn’t even like it had been a good idea at the time. It was just that Kurt had seemed as though he really wanted to do it, and Puck just wanted to keep that smile on his face for as long as he could. So he’d gone through with it, and he couldn’t take it back now, whether it counted as a real wedding or not.

“I voted against you, you know.”

“Everyone voted against me,” she said, and for a second she looked just as pissed as she’d been the day Schue counted the votes. Then she blinked and looked up at him again, eyes narrowed like she was trying to work something out. “But you voted _for_ Kurt, didn’t you?”

He shrugged and pushed himself off the wall of the elevator when the doors slid open, stepping into the lobby without giving her an answer.


	4. Chapter 4

Nobody knew where Schue had come up with the theme for Nationals. They’d all tried pointing out that it didn’t make any _sense_ , but it was Schue, so they knew they were fighting a losing battle.

Kurt hadn’t fought that hard once he heard what his solo was going to be. A mash-up, of course, because Schue just couldn’t help himself. But it wasn’t terrible, and it suited Kurt’s voice, so he didn’t really mind.

Schue had been calling the theme ‘British Invasion’ since he first came up with it, despite the fact that one of the songs was by The Killers. But they were from Las Vegas, and the song had been covered by some girl group from England, so Schue decided to let the girls perform it and call it an homage to their host city or something.

Which meant the boys were performing a song by a British girl group, because that was just how Schue’s mind worked. Kurt couldn’t even pretend not to find it hilarious that Finn and Puck and Sam were singing a Sugababes song, but they actually sounded pretty good, and once they got past the fact that it made them sound kind of gay, they did a decent job with the choreography as well.

Well. Finn seemed to be the only one who had a problem with the gay thing, now that Kurt thought about it. He was the only one who’d lobbied for a pronoun change, anyway, and privately Kurt had agreed with him, because there was no telling when they were going to find themselves in front of an uptight judge with no sense of humor. But the whole point, according to Schue, was the gender reversal theme, so in the end they’d left it alone.

That left Kurt and his mash-up of Adele’s “Someone Like You” and an old Van Morrison song by the same name. Kurt figured it was just that Schue couldn’t stand to let them perform without finding a way to get some classic rock in there, but it wasn’t Journey, so he was willing to let it go.

It was a risk, certainly, but they had the flashy choreography covered in the first two numbers, and he knew his voice was strong enough to carry a ballad. So he was confident that they could pull it off, as long as everyone would forget about his tragic love life long enough to focus on the competition.

He knew they were all on Puck’s side. They’d made that abundantly clear at rehearsal, and even the ones who weren’t treating him like he’d singlehandedly broken Puck’s heart -- as though that were even possible -- had let him know that they thought he’d messed up. And maybe he had, but there wasn’t much he could do about it before the competition.

That was what he told himself when Puck walked into the boys’ dressing room twenty minutes before the competition was due to start. Kurt looked up when he walked in, cheeks flushing when their eyes met. Before he could bring himself to look away another memory flashed in his mind, of Puck standing in front of him with that stupid smirk on his face and a ring in one hand.

Kurt remembered smiling, maybe even laughing at the ridiculousness of Puck putting a ring on _his_ finger. He realized he was smiling at the memory when Puck raised his eyebrows, then he crossed the room and stopped in front of Kurt.

“Puck,” Kurt said at the same time Puck said, “Listen.”

“Just hear me out for a second,” Puck said, then he reached up to rest a hand on the back of his neck, and Kurt vividly remembered watching him do the same thing just that morning, only he was wearing a lot less clothes at the time.

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about last night. Guess I should have figured out you were too drunk to know what you were doing. It was just that you seemed really into the idea, you know? It was kind of cute.”

For a few seconds Kurt just blinked at him, because surely Puck hadn’t just used the word ‘cute’ in reference to him. But he must have, and that meant he’d also implied that this entire marriage fiasco was Kurt’s idea. That didn’t explain why Puck would go along with it, though, especially if he hadn’t been drinking.

He didn’t remember how the subject had come up in the first place, but he remembered long, slow kisses, and he remembered strong hands on him, and if Puck had gone through with a _wedding_ just to get Kurt to sleep with him...

“Oh, God,” he murmured, blushing all the way to the roots of his hair. “Noah, did I...?”

That was as far as he got before the dressing room door opened again, and Schue appeared. “Puck, there you are. You need to get dressed, we don’t have much time.”

He slid an arm around Puck’s shoulders as he spoke, pulling him toward the rack where Puck’s costume was still hanging. Kurt watched them go, and when Puck glanced over his shoulder Kurt blushed and looked away.

~

They didn’t get another chance to talk before the competition was over. Puck held his own, in spite of skipping out on rehearsal, and Kurt blew his solo out of the water. The fact that they didn’t win the whole thing was a crime, as far as Puck was concerned, but Rachel had done enough rehashing of the winning performance for all of them, so he kept his mouth shut.

Instead he passed the time after the competition watching Kurt, mostly. He was trying not to be one of those creepy stalker types, because Kurt had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in a repeat performance or anything. Still, that didn’t mean Puck couldn’t appreciate the view, especially when Kurt was looking all flushed and pleased with himself, soaking up the compliments the rest of the group kept tossing in his direction.

Well, Mercedes and Finn, anyway, though the rest of them were more or less ignoring him. Usually that was how they treated Puck, but Kurt was one of their kind, so it was a little weird to see him being frozen out.

“Enough sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves, guys,” Mercedes finally said. “So we didn’t win; we still made it to Nationals, right? That deserves a celebration. Ladies, didn’t we make plans to catch Celine’s show tonight?”

Rachel perked up at that, and both of them turned to look at Kurt. It took him a second to catch on that they were waiting for him to say something, but when he finally looked up he flashed the smile he usually reserved for teachers.

“Sorry, girls, I seem to have spent my ticket money on a wedding.”

All eyes swung in Puck’s direction, but he was too busy watching Kurt to notice. Then Kurt looked at him, and Puck shrugged and chanced a smile. “Hey, I sprang for the rings.”

Kurt’s gaze drifted to Puck’s finger, and Puck touched his ring with his thumb. He’d been doing it all day, which was kind of weird, considering Kurt had ditched his ring the first chance he got. But for some reason Puck just couldn’t bring himself to take his off, and when Kurt looked up at him again he was sort of glad he hadn’t.

It was stupid. He knew it was stupid, just like he knew that Kurt was right and they weren’t really married. It felt pretty real last night, though, and the longer Kurt kept looking at him the more Puck let himself hope that maybe Kurt didn’t hate the idea of them so much after all.

They were all still wearing their costumes, and Puck glanced down at the Union Jack shirt and the weird, not-actually-leather pants someone had conned Schue into letting them wear. Finn, probably, since he was the only one Schue ever listened to, but Puck was pretty sure it wasn’t Finn who’d come up with the wardrobe. Usually it was Kurt who picked out their clothes, and when Puck looked at him again he could see why Kurt had chosen this.

The shirts were sleeveless, which meant the guys got to show off their guns, and granted, Kurt wasn’t as built as the rest of them, but he still had some decent definition. A dancer’s body, he’d heard somebody call it once, and after last night Puck could testify that there wasn’t a lot Kurt couldn’t do with it. He was pretty flexible, anyway, and Puck’s cock stirred in his fake leather pants when he pictured the things Kurt _had_ done with it.

Not as much as Puck wanted -- not by a long shot -- but it was a start, and if Puck ever got another chance, he’d make damn sure Kurt remembered everything in the morning.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the show,” Mercedes was saying, but she didn’t sound much like she meant it. “We could stay here and celebrate together.”

“To be honest, I’m not really up for celebrating,” Kurt said. “You go on. You can tell me all about it on the plane ride home tomorrow.”

He didn’t exactly look at Puck while he said it, but his head sort of turned in Puck’s direction, just for a second before he caught himself and focused on Mercedes again. It wasn’t much, and maybe it didn’t even mean anything, but Kurt hadn’t shut him down completely when Puck apologized, so maybe there was a chance he wasn’t planning to freeze Puck out forever.

“At least come help pick out our outfits for the show,” Mercedes said, and Kurt smiled and let her pull him out of his chair. A second later he was being escorted out of the room by Mercedes, Tina and Rachel, all three of them talking a mile a minute about what clothes they’d brought, like anybody at a fucking Celine Dion show was going to be looking at what they were wearing.

Puck didn’t even realize he was still staring in the direction they’d disappeared until a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to find Finn watching him. He was making that weird face that meant he was either totally uncomfortable, or he was trying not to cry. Puck guessed it probably had something to do with the fact that he’d married Finn’s stepbrother, but he wasn’t really interested in making Finn feel better about it.

“Dude, you want to come out with us? Beiste and Schue want to take everybody else out to celebrate without the lame music. I think we’re just going to hit the all-night buffet or something.”

“No, thanks. I think I’m just gonna chill in the room tonight.”

Finn nodded, but he didn’t make himself scarce or anything. For a minute he just stood there giving Puck his worried face, and Puck was starting to think he _was_ going to cry when Finn started talking again.

“Look, I’m sorry Kurt’s being kind of a jerk about all this. He probably just needs some time, you know, to come to terms or whatever.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Puck said. He stood up before Finn could get all weepy and, like, hug him or something, then he headed in the direction Kurt and his girls had disappeared.

He told himself it was better this way; he didn’t need to waste his last night in Vegas babysitting the rest of their sorry asses, and if Kurt didn’t want to talk to him, then there was no one around to care what Puck did with his time. Except the whole point had been that he _wanted_ someone to care, and he’d kind of liked the idea of Kurt being that someone.

When he reached the lobby he glanced toward the elevators, but the thought of going back to his room and staring at the ceiling all night was too depressing. He was pretty sure the guys had pretty much destroyed the mini-bar, so he couldn’t even wallow in a decent drunk on McKinley’s dime. At the last second he turned on his heel and headed for the revolving doors at the front of the hotel, not even bothering to change out of his costume before he headed out into the Las Vegas night.

~

It took awhile to get rid of Mercedes and the others. The closer it got to show time the more nervous Kurt got that they might decide to skip out on Celine entirely and just stay in, but finally Rachel announced that it was time to go, and after one more round of hugs and a promise to Mercedes that he was fine, _really_ , they left him alone.

Which left him...alone. He wasn’t sure where everyone else had gone; none of the others were really speaking to him, it seemed, and though some of them had softened a little after his solo performance, they still seemed intent on holding him responsible for this whole mess with Puck. It hardly seemed fair, considering he couldn’t even remember what happened, but for some reason they all seemed to think he’d hurt Puck’s feelings just by being honest.

It wasn’t as though he doubted Puck _had_ feelings, he just never expected them to involve him. But after the way Puck had stormed out of the room during rehearsal, then the way he’d smiled at Kurt and touched that stupid ring, Kurt suddenly wasn’t so sure. He’d implied that the -- utterly cliche and completely humiliating -- wedding had been Kurt’s idea, but for a few seconds, it had been easy to believe that Puck had wanted it too.

Puck wanting to sleep with Kurt he could believe. After the Karofsky bombshell the year before, it wasn’t that difficult to buy that there was another closeted member of the football team. And Kurt wasn’t completely blind; he’d seen the changes in Puck, watched him grow a little...well, less pigheaded, anyway, over the past two years. He wasn’t sure if it was fatherhood or his stint in prison or just spending time with people who weren’t as vapid as McKinley’s elite that had changed him, but whatever it was, it had definitely been for the better.

So Puck had sprouted a sensitive side while Kurt wasn’t paying attention. It was unexpected, certainly, but Kurt was mature enough to admit that maybe he’d been less than fair in his handling of the whole unfortunate mess. Which meant there was really only one thing he could do about it, and it wasn’t going to kill him to apologize to Puck.

It wasn’t going to be his proudest moment, either, but it was best to get it over with. Kurt told himself he believed that and passed the door to his own room, forcing his legs to carry him down the hall to the room he’d woken up in that morning. He knocked as loud as he dared, glancing up and down the hall to make sure none of his so-called friends was lurking around to witness his latest humiliation.

The hall was deserted, and when Kurt didn’t get an answer to his second knock he had to concede that perhaps Puck wasn’t brooding alone in his room after all. He sighed and dug in his pocket for his phone, pressing Finn’s speed dial and hating himself a little for tracking Puck down like he really was Kurt’s wayward husband.

The thought sent a rush of some emotion he couldn’t name rolling through him, and he closed his eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath while he waited for Finn to pick up. The line connected on the next ring, and Kurt heard the buzz of crowd noise in the background just ahead of Finn’s voice.

“Kurt?”

“Where are you?” Kurt asked, then he frowned and opened his eyes. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. Is Puck with you?”

“Puck? No, he said he was planning to chill in the room,” Finn said. He was shouting over the noise, and Kurt guessed they were probably somewhere in the vicinity of a casino.

“Well, he’s not,” Kurt said, stomach twisting at the thought of what Puck might be up to on his own in Las Vegas. As though it was any of his business what Puck did or who he did it with, regardless of what had happened between them the night before. He knew better than to expect anything approaching an actual commitment from Puck, which was the whole reason Kurt should have known better than to sleep with him in the first place.

“Sorry, bro,” Finn said, then Kurt heard the muffled sound of someone’s voice -- Schue’s, he was pretty sure -- saying Finn’s name. “Listen, I gotta go. Why don’t you just call him, dude? He probably has his phone on him.”

Kurt frowned and hung up on Finn without answering. For a few seconds he stared down at his phone, wondering if he should take Finn’s advice and call Puck. But it felt too needy, too much like he was checking up on Puck, and anyway he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what he might hear if Puck actually answered. He let out a sigh and turned toward his own room, but when he looked up and spotted the person walking down the hall toward him, his heart stopped and he felt his palms start to sweat.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, trying to wipe his hands on his pants without being completely obvious as he watched Puck approaching. He was still wearing the Union Jack shirt and the faux leather pants Kurt had picked out for the boys’ number, arms on full display and looking...well, mouth-watering.

“Hey,” he said when he reached Kurt, gaze drifting down Kurt’s frame and then back up again.

“Hi,” Kurt said, voice a little breathier than he’d intended, and he cleared his throat and willed himself not to blush. “I was looking for you. Finn said you planned to stay in tonight.”

Puck shrugged and glanced over Kurt's shoulder for a second, then he looked back at Kurt. “I went down to that burger joint across the Strip to grab some dinner. They had one of those old-school video games, so I hung out for a little while. Then I remembered that my clothes were still in the dressing room, and I had to get one of the maintenance guys to let me in so I could get them.”

He held up the bundle of clothes hanging from one hand, and Kurt nodded idiotically and chanced a small smile. “You really went out in that outfit?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, glancing down at himself. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Kurt answered. “I chose it myself, after all; I knew full well exactly how good it would look on you. It’s just that I can’t imagine you didn’t get propositioned a time or two, even in a burger joint.”

Puck shrugged again, which Kurt assumed meant that he’d at least noticed a few looks in his direction. The fact that he hadn’t done anything about it didn’t necessarily mean anything, but a tiny part of Kurt sort of hoped that it did.

“So why were you looking for me?”

“Oh,” Kurt said, forcing himself back to the reality that Puck was standing in front of him waiting for him to spit out what he wanted. “I just thought maybe we should clear the air. I mean, obviously we...”

He trailed off, heat creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, and Puck rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his room key.

“We got married, Kurt. We got married and came back here for what I thought was pretty decent sex, then you passed out and forgot the whole thing.”

He stepped around Kurt without waiting for an answer, unlocking the door to his room and for a second Kurt was too stunned to react. Because Noah Puckerman actually sounded _hurt_ that Kurt couldn’t remember. Which was fair, Kurt supposed; it had to be a blow to his ego to have anyone forget a night with him. But the fact that Kurt didn't remember all the details didn’t mean he’d forgotten the way Puck’s hands felt on him or the way Puck smiled at him up close right before he kissed Kurt.

The way his mouth moved across Kurt’s jaw, up to his ear to whisper, _I’m gonna make this good for you, baby_ , and as soon as Kurt remembered that he gasped and covered his mouth with his hand.

Puck paused with his hand on the door, glancing over his shoulder at Kurt. "What?”

“I didn’t...I didn’t forget. It’s just that the details are a little hazy.”

Puck let out a soft laugh, shaking his head and pushing his room door open. “You want to come in?”

Kurt nodded and followed Puck into the room, gaze straying to the bed that had been made by the hotel staff at some point during the afternoon. The bed where he'd apparently lost his virginity, and boy, did Kurt ever wish the details on that part were clear.

Puck crossed to an open duffel bag and dropped his clothes on top, then he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. When he was finished he glanced up at Kurt, raising an eyebrow when Kurt didn’t move. “I’m not going to jump you or anything.”

Kurt flushed all over again and crossed to the bed, taking a seat a few feet away from Puck. There was no reason to be nervous; they were _married_ , after all, and even if it didn’t count, they’d already slept together. So even if Puck didn’t want him again...but that was the thing, because Kurt was starting to get the distinct impression that he did.

“Noah,” he said, and when Puck glanced sharply at him Kurt realized that they weren’t really on a first name basis. At least they hadn’t been, but last night changed things Kurt probably hadn’t even realized yet. He swallowed against the sudden rush of butterflies in his stomach, then he took a deep breath and tried again. “Noah, please tell me I didn’t refuse to sleep with you unless you agreed to marry me.”

And there was that laugh again, soft and almost familiar and sending warmth curling in the base of Kurt’s stomach. “Truth is you refused to sleep with me at all.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Kurt asked before he could stop himself. Still, it was a valid question, because he’d never expect a commitment from Puck, but he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down an offer of sex with one of the hottest guys he knew. At least he didn’t think he was that stupid, but it wasn’t as though he could actually _remember_.

“At first you seemed pretty into it,” Puck said, smiling at the memory and it was really hard to focus on the conversation when Puck was looking at him like that. “I mean, you kind of started it. But then you said something about me being your first and I’d just break your heart or whatever when I didn’t want to do it again. So I said we could get married first, if you wanted. I didn’t think you’d actually go for it; I was just trying to show you it didn’t have to be a one-time thing.”

“So it was a joke.” The words came out flat, and Kurt was sure Puck could hear the disappointment in his voice. Of course it had been a joke; he’d never thought for a second that Puck had actually meant it.

“I thought so right up until it happened. I mean, I tried to talk you out of it, but then you just called me a chicken and kissed me and I figured if I wanted you to keep doing that, I better go through with it.” Puck paused and let out another laugh, but this time the sound was forced. “Guess that didn’t work out so well.”

Kurt’s heart skipped a beat at the bitterness in his voice, and it didn’t make any sense, because Puck shouldn’t care whether or not Kurt wanted him. They were still a couple feet apart on the bed, and Kurt wanted to move closer, maybe kiss Puck just to prove that he was wrong about what Kurt wanted. But he didn’t have any experience at this sort of thing, and if it was too late and his chance had passed, he’d just end up heartbroken on top of the humiliation.

“I really am sorry,” he said instead, stealing another glance at Puck to find him watching Kurt. “I wish I could remember.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Kurt let out a laugh that sounded about as genuine as Puck’s had. “Not as much as I do, believe me. I know the first time isn’t as magical as they make it seem in the movies, but I’d prefer to at least remember mine.”

He felt the mattress dip a little, and when he looked up again, Puck was closer. Close enough to touch, and when he leaned in Kurt turned toward him before he could stop himself. He felt the warmth of Puck’s breath on his cheek, then a hand landed on his thigh and slid up a couple inches, and Kurt’s breath caught in his throat.

“What are you doing?”

As soon as he said it he pictured Puck’s smile, bright and happy as he leaned in close. Kurt remembered something firm against his back, bright lights flashing on their way past and he wasn’t positive, but it seemed as though they must have been in a taxi at some point. Then Puck’s lips brushed his and Kurt remembered laughing when Puck pulled back far enough to say, “Kissing my husband.”

That wasn’t what Puck said this time. He could still hear those other words ringing in his memory as Puck’s lips brushed against his jaw, and Kurt heard his own surprised intake of breath when Puck said, “Refreshing your memory.”

He wanted to laugh, because Puck had no idea how right he was. But he sort of wanted to cry, too, because the Puck in his memory had looked so happy, and if Kurt had been the one to make him smile like that, he _needed_ to remember so he could make it happen again and again and again.

For a few blissful moments Kurt kissed Puck back. His hand curved around Puck’s cheek, fingers tracing the lines of his face and his heart pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure Puck could feel it. He wanted to stay right here, just like this, and keep letting Puck kiss him for as long as he wanted. He wanted to let Puck show him all the things they’d done last night, and this time Kurt was determined not to forget a single one.

“Noah,” he murmured against Puck’s mouth, hand leaving his cheek to rest against his shoulder. “I lied.”

And maybe that wasn’t the best way to say it, because Puck tensed against him and pulled away, but he didn’t let go of Kurt when he answered. “About what?”

“When I said the wedding wasn’t real,” Kurt said, and now his heart was pounding so hard Kurt could hear it pulsing against his eardrums. “It’s not legally binding, but that doesn’t mean it was meaningless.”

“Look, Kurt, I know it’s not legal,” Puck said, and Kurt felt some of the tension ease out of him where his hand was still pressed against Puck’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have let you go through with it if I thought it was.”

“But Ohio says Rachel’s dads aren’t really married, and they still take their vows seriously.” Kurt looked down at Puck’s chest, taking in the Union Jack still covering his torso and hoping he wasn’t about to ruin everything for a second time. “We’re not legally tied to one another, but what happens when we get back to Lima? Do we go our separate ways and hope it stops feeling like we’re connected somehow?”

“If that’s the way you want it,” Puck said, and this time he did let go of Kurt. “All I know is that last night, when I put that ring on your finger, it felt pretty real. I don’t know how fast that kind of feeling goes away.”

Kurt glanced down at Puck’s hand where it rested on the mattress next to his thigh. The ring was still there, a simple gold band and it didn’t look quite so cheap now that Kurt really looked at it. He’d been in such a hurry to get his off that he hadn’t thought much about the ring itself, but now...

“Why did you choose those rings?” he asked, looking up at Puck again.

Puck glanced down at his own hand, then back up at Kurt. “I didn’t. You did. You said...”

“That they were just like the one my mother gave to my father on their wedding day,” Kurt finished for him.

He remembered now, remembered standing in front of the jewelry case with Puck and feeling happy and a little like he was floating and ridiculously sentimental. Nostalgic -- and okay, tipsy -- enough to pass over the much more refined platinum bands in favor of the yellow gold that had gone out of fashion years ago.

And Puck had just smiled and kissed him, then looked at the woman behind the counter and said, “Guess my man has spoken.”

Kurt blinked and looked over at Puck, taking in the set of his shoulders and his guarded expression. He hadn’t seen Puck like that in a long time, maybe not since he came back to McKinley for their senior year. It wasn’t his best look; Kurt much preferred the smiling, happy Puck from the cab ride back to the hotel, the one who’d made a big show of referring to Kurt as his husband over and over, until Kurt kissed him just to shut him up for awhile.

“Are you saying you’d like to see this marriage through?” Kurt asked, frowning because surely that couldn’t be what Puck meant.

But instead of laughing in his face, Puck just shrugged and managed somehow to look even more nervous. “It’s not like we can get unmarried, right?”

He had a point, but that didn’t mean they were obligated to...Kurt wasn’t even sure what this meant. Most married people lived together, for one thing, and while they were both eighteen, they still had several weeks of high school left. Then there was the fact that they both still lived with their parents, and Kurt knew full well that his father wasn’t going to let Puck move in just because Kurt had gotten drunk and done something stupid while he was in Vegas.

The fact that he might actually be a little in love with Puck already wasn’t going to do much to sway his father’s opinion.

“We barely know each other.”

Another shrug, but Puck swayed a little closer, and Kurt found himself leaning into the solid warmth of Puck’s side. “So we get to know each other. Go on dates and stuff. We skipped ahead a little bit, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it won’t work.”

Kurt smiled in spite of himself, and when Puck smiled back at him his heart beat a little faster. “So I’m dating my...husband.”

“Say that again,” Puck said, leaning in to brush his lips against Kurt’s neck, and Kurt let out a little sigh and tilted his head.

“What, ‘husband’?”

“Yeah.” Puck’s mouth pressed against his, and Kurt parted his lips and let Puck push him backwards onto the mattress. He paused long enough to look down at Kurt, his grin sending a shiver of want down Kurt’s spine. “I like how it sounds when you say it.”

“It sounds pretty good when you say it, too,” Kurt said, hands on the front of Puck’s shirt to drag him forward. Their mouths were nearly touching when Puck paused, blinking down at Kurt for a second.

“When did I say it?”

“Last night. In the cab,” Kurt said, frowning for a second as he searched his memory. “And in the elevator. And all the way down the hall to your room, at least until I made you stop.”

“You remember that?” Puck grinned, and he looked so happy about it that Kurt wished all over again that he could remember everything.

What he could remember seemed unbelievable, but nothing was more unbelievable than the idea that Puck actually _wanted_ to be married to him, and for the first time Kurt was almost sure anything was possible. He reached up to rest his hand against Puck’s cheek, just looking for a long moment, but when he registered the sight of his bare finger against Puck’s skin he gasped and pushed at Puck’s shoulders until Puck took the hint and rolled off him.

“What’s the problem?” Puck asked, and he sounded so resigned that Kurt almost regretted pushing him away. Almost, but not quite, because if they were going to do this, he wanted to do it right.

“Just...hold that thought,” Kurt said, then he pressed a hard kiss against Puck’s lips. “I’ll be right back.”


	5. Chapter 5

For a few minutes after Kurt left, Puck laid on the bed and tried to convince himself that he hadn’t just been ditched again. Sure, Kurt had said he was coming right back, but considering their track record so far, he was having a hard time believing it.

Still, Kurt remembered some of their wedding night, at least, and he seemed like he was willing to give them a chance once they got back to Lima, so Puck was probably just being paranoid. Probably.

Ten minutes later he was still alone and moving pretty steadily from ‘probably paranoid’ into full-blown panic. He thought about going to look for Kurt, because if he wasn’t coming back after all it would be better to know than spend the whole night wondering where the hell he’d gone. He’d almost made up his mind to do it when someone knocked on the door, and Puck’s heart skipped as he crossed the room to pull it open.

Sure enough, Kurt was standing in the hall with one bag slung over his shoulder and a suitcase almost as big as him gripped in his hands. Puck reached for the suitcase, pulling it out of Kurt’s grip and standing aside to let Kurt in.

“Babe, I would have helped you,” Puck said to Kurt’s back while he waited for Kurt to hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door knob.

“I only brought the essentials,” Kurt answered once he closed the door, turning to watch Puck set his suitcase against the wall. “I’ll get the rest of my things in the morning before we leave for the airport.”

Puck didn’t ask how much more stuff Kurt could possibly have. They’d known each other long enough for Puck to know how high-maintenance Kurt was, so he wasn’t even surprised that Kurt had more shit to pack up back in his room. What he didn’t get was why Kurt felt the need to stop making out with him long enough to go pack it up.

“You really needed all this stuff right this second?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when Kurt set his other bag down on a chair and crossed back to Puck.

“No,” Kurt said, hands on Puck’s chest and leaning in for a soft kiss. “I needed my ring. I just thought since I was already there, I’d bring a few things back with me so I wouldn’t have to leave quite so early in the morning.”

Puck pretty much stopped listening as soon as Kurt said the word ‘ring’. He reached up and caught Kurt’s left hand where it was still resting against his chest, thumb tracing the gold band on his finger. “You sure about this?”

“Not even remotely,” Kurt answered, but he was grinning, and Puck grinned right back at him and dragged him forward for another kiss.

His arm slid around Kurt’s waist, pulling Kurt flush against him as he backed them toward the bed. When his legs hit the back of the mattress he sat down hard, feet planted wide apart to give Kurt room to stand between his knees. Kurt’s hands were on his shoulders, thumbs stroking the sides of his neck and it felt good in a way Puck wouldn’t have expected.

“Noah,” Kurt said as Puck reached for the buttons on the front of Kurt’s shirt, “last night...did we...?”

He trailed off, blushing and embarrassed and it was kind of cute, but Puck sort of wished their first time had been at least as memorable as the cab ride back to the hotel.

“We didn’t fuck, if that’s what you’re asking,” Puck said, watching Kurt blush even darker. He slid open the last button on Kurt’s shirt and pushed the fabric apart, hands sliding over warm skin and grinning at Kurt’s sharp intake of breath. “You wanted to. Hell, I wanted to. But you said it was your first time, and I didn’t want to do anything while you were drunk that you’d regret when you sobered up.”

“Really? Because it felt...I mean, I could feel _something_ this morning.”

Puck huffed a soft laugh and pushed Kurt’s shirt off his shoulders, then he pulled off one sleeve at a time. “Yeah, you kept begging for it, so I used my fingers while I sucked you off. It was pretty hot, how bad you wanted me.”

Kurt’s hands came up to frame his face, just looking for a second before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Puck’s lips. He took his time kissing Puck, and Puck let him, because he wanted to make sure Kurt remembered everything this time. He wanted Kurt to remember the way Puck’s mouth fit against his, wanted him to remember the feel of Puck’s hands on his waist, fingers dipping below the waistband of his skinny jeans before Puck reached for his fly.

“I still want you to,” Kurt said, murmuring the words against Puck’s mouth, like maybe he was too embarrassed to say them while he was looking at Puck.

“You sure?” Puck said, but he was already working Kurt’s jeans open, pushing the fabric down his hips and over his thighs to pool on the floor at his feet.

“Last night you said...you said you’d make it good for me.” Kurt flushed all over again, red splotches blooming on his chest and Puck pressed his mouth to the one right below his collar bone.

“Yeah, babe,” he said, pressing hot kisses from Kurt’s chest up the length of his neck. “And this time you’re going to remember everything.”

Kurt laughed against his skin, the sound vibrating down Puck’s spine and making him grip Kurt’s hips a little tighter. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Kurt’s underwear and dragged those down too, waiting until Kurt kicked his shoes off and stepped out of the pile of clothes at his feet before Puck caught him around the waist and pulled him down onto the bed.

A second later Kurt was on his back, pale against the flowery bedspread and staring up at Puck with a nervous but kind of determined expression. He grinned and pulled his shirt off, tossing it on the floor with Kurt’s clothes. His knees were planted on either side of Kurt’s hips, dick straining against his fake leather pants and when Kurt reached up and pressed the heel of his palm to the base of Puck’s cock, he let out a little hiss and pushed forward into Kurt's touch.

Kurt’s hand curved around him through his pants, moving slow like maybe he was working on learning the shape of Puck’s dick. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how he was going to fit something that big inside him when just Puck’s fingers had left him feeling it the next morning; Puck wasn’t exactly sure either, but if Kurt was determined to try, Puck wasn't going to say no again.

He’d seemed pretty determined last night too, when he was naked and panting under Puck, begging Puck to fuck him. Saying no to that was maybe the hardest thing Puck had ever done, next to signing away the right to be a dad, and he was sort of glad Kurt didn’t remember that part.

Not that it would be so bad if Kurt could remember the way he’d begged for it, but he was just as glad Kurt didn’t remember Puck’s wrecked expression when Kurt said _make love to me_ and Puck shook his head and said no, then sort of gave in anyway and compromised with his fingers and what turned out to be a pretty distracting blow job.

And seriously, who even said stuff like _make love to me_? His husband, apparently, and Puck laughed at the thought and planted his hands on either side of Kurt’s shoulders, leaning in to kiss him slow. Kurt’s hand was still on his dick, stroking him through the cheap fabric and Puck moaned into his mouth and bucked forward when Kurt’s thumb teased the head through his pants.

A second later Kurt’s hand was gone, then he was tugging Puck’s fly open and pushing the fake leather down his hips, and Puck was glad he’d already ditched his boots, because it made scrambling out of his pants a lot easier. When he was totally naked he crawled over Kurt again, opening his mouth against pale skin and sucking hard on Kurt's neck until he made a high, kind of desperate noise and arched up into Puck.

His hands were on Puck’s back, flexing hard against him and it seemed like Kurt was trying to pull him even closer. Like he was trying to fit them in the same space somehow, and even though Puck knew it wasn’t possible, he was down with letting Kurt try.

He kissed his way down Kurt’s neck to his chest, teeth closing around a hard nipple and when Kurt gasped and clutched even harder at him, Puck slid his tongue over the spot and moved on. He mouthed his way down the center of Kurt’s chest, past the little trail of hair above his belly button to the hard angle of his hip bone.

Kurt was all angles, sharp bones and lean muscle stretched taut under pale skin, hard and pressing back against Puck. There was nothing soft about him, not unless Puck counted the tiny gasps he let out when he dipped his tongue into the hollow just above Kurt’s hip bone, or the breathy way he said Puck’s name when Puck pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh.

He’d spent a decent amount of time last night learning the spots on Kurt that made him crazy, the ones that made him arch up and tug at the short hairs of Puck’s mohawk, and the ones that made him moan and grit his teeth and demand more, right this second. He liked how pushy Kurt could be when he was really into it, and now that he knew just what to do to make Kurt lose control, he was planning to take Kurt apart as often as Kurt would let him.

Kurt was chanting his name, a steady _NoahNoahNoah_ over and over like a sigh. He knew that meant Kurt wasn’t going to last long, and hell, he knew the feeling, so he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take the edge off. They had the whole night, after all, and starting tomorrow...well, he figured they had as long as they wanted to work out the rest.

Puck pressed one last kiss to the inside of Kurt’s thigh before he shifted up just enough to get his hands under Kurt’s legs, pushing them up and apart and Kurt just moaned and went with it. No hesitation, no shy routine even though he didn’t have a bunch of casino drinks in him to help kill the inhibitions. Just...want, total and with no doubt at all that he wanted _this_. That he wanted _Puck_ , any way he could get him.

He leaned in to huff a hot breath over Kurt’s balls, grinning at the shudder that rolled through Kurt’s whole body. He’d figured out last night exactly how sensitive they were, so he was careful to avoid them when he flattened his tongue against the underside of Kurt’s cock and licked a stripe all the way from base to tip.

Kurt let out a moan that barely sounded human, and when Puck’s lips closed around the head of his cock he grunted and rocked up into wet heat. Puck was ready for it this time, so he didn’t choke and pull off the way he had the night before. Instead he let Kurt fuck his mouth, hands on Kurt’s thighs to hold him open while Kurt thrust up into him. And it was totally hot, knowing that he could turn Kurt on enough to make him lose control like this, but Puck knew from experience exactly how to take him apart completely.

He pulled off with a wet sound, grinning at Kurt’s low moan and letting go of his legs. Then he climbed off the bed to dig through the pile of junk he’d managed to accumulate on the nightstand until he found the lube, flipping the cap open and pouring some on his fingers as he climbed back on the bed to settle between Kurt's knees.

“There are condoms somewhere, right?” Kurt asked, and when Puck frowned at him he rolled his eyes and sat up. He hadn’t asked last night, which maybe should have been another signal that he was too drunk to be making major decisions. But Puck had never worried all that much about it, so it hadn’t really dawned on him to wonder why Kurt wasn’t bitching at him about all the safe sex stuff Ms. Holliday had taught them back in junior year.

He looked pretty serious about it now, though, and when Kurt scrambled to the edge of the mattress Puck frowned down at the lube dripping through his fingers, then at Kurt’s retreating back. “You want me to go get condoms?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Kurt said, but his voice was muffled because he was digging through the bag he’d dropped on the chair when he moved himself into Puck’s room. A few seconds later he was climbing back onto the bed, cock standing at attention against his stomach and looking sort of flushed and totally determined. "But it’s sweet of you to offer.”

He stopped when he was right in front of Puck, smiling and leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. Puck groaned against his mouth and wrapped one arm around Kurt’s waist, his other hand on Kurt’s ass to slide two slick fingers between his cheeks.

Kurt gasped when Puck’s fingers found his hole, spreading lube around the entrance without pushing inside. It was a tease, yeah, but the whole point was to drag this out as long as possible. He wanted to make it last, wanted to hear Kurt beg some more and make him want it so bad that it was a relief when Puck finally fucked him for the first time.

He wanted to do all that while Kurt knew exactly what he was asking for. Puck let out a sound that most people would probably classify as a growl and pushed the tip of his finger inside Kurt, pausing for a few beats before he eased it back out and gripped Kurt’s hips.

“Get on your stomach,” Puck said, and when Kurt’s eyes went even darker Puck’s cock twitched so painfully he wasn’t sure he was going to make it to the actual fucking.

He gripped the base of his cock while Kurt pulled away, tightening his fist just hard enough to ease some of the pressure while Kurt pulled the covers down and then reached for a pillow. He stretched out on the mattress, head turned to one side and lifting his hips to shove the pillow under them. Like he knew exactly how this worked. Like he’d done this before, except he’d told Puck he hadn’t, and knowing Kurt he’d probably read up on what to expect, just in case he ever made it far enough from Lima to get lucky.

That thought made Puck wish he hadn’t waited until they were in Vegas to make a move, but he couldn’t change it now, and anyway it didn’t really matter. They were going back to Lima tomorrow, and Puck was still going to want Kurt just as much when they got there, so he’d have plenty of time to prove that it didn’t take leaving home to find somebody who’d appreciate him.

He reached for the lube again, free hand spreading Kurt’s cheeks so he could pour lube right down the center of his crack. Kurt gasped and twisted to look over his shoulder, but Puck dropped the lube and reached out to run a soothing hand down the center of his back.

“Just relax, babe. You’re gonna love this.”

The truth was Puck didn’t actually know what he was talking about. He’d never done this before, at least not with another guy. He’d traded hand jobs in the bathroom of a couple bars, and he’d gone down on a dude from fight club once or twice, but there was a big difference between that and actually putting his dick in another guy. He’d fucked enough chicks to know the basics, though, and he figured if Kurt had read up on the rest, they could figure it out together.

Still, he only knew the theory on how it was supposed to go if he didn’t want Kurt to be too traumatized to ever let Puck touch him again, so he was planning to take his time with the prep work. His fingers chased the line of slick down Kurt’s ass, circling his hole again until Kurt was moaning and pushing back against his hand.

His hips were rocking against the pillow, trying to get more and probably leaving a wet trail on the pillowcase, and wow, Puck was really far gone if he thought even that was kind of hot. He circled Kurt’s hole one last time, then he pushed his finger in to the knuckle. The gasp that got him was a weird mixture of surprise and relief, and it almost sounded like a sob. For a second he thought maybe it hurt, but then Kurt rocked back to get more and Puck swallowed hard at the sight of Kurt fucking himself on Puck’s finger.

He was tight, hot and pulsing around Puck and he couldn’t imagine how he was supposed to get his dick in there when it felt like Kurt had a vice grip on just his index finger, but the thought of sliding into that tight heat made him really, _really_ want to try. Kurt was still rocking back against him, a little harder every time until finally Puck felt him starting to loosen up, just a little.

The grip on his finger wasn’t as tight anymore, at least, and Puck reached for the lube with his free hand and poured a little more over his finger where it was still working in and out of Kurt. Then he took a deep breath and slid his free hand up Kurt’s back as he pushed his middle finger in to join the first.

Kurt’s moan made it sound like he was dying, but he’d been pretty loud the night before, too, so Puck didn’t stop. Instead he leaned over, fingers twisting a little as he shifted enough to press his mouth to the base of Kurt’s spine. That got him another moan, then a breathy little laugh and Puck grinned and stretched up to press a kiss to Kurt’s shoulder.

“Noah,” Kurt said, like a sigh as he arched up until he was almost bent in half. Puck’s mouth moved on the back of his neck, fingers pushing in and out of Kurt and twisting every so often, opening him up until Kurt was panting and grinding back against him. “Noah, _please_.”

He didn’t know what he was asking for. He couldn’t, because there was no way he was ready for more. Instead of answering Puck mouthed his way down Kurt’s back, fingers moving faster as he pressed kisses down Kurt’s spine to the swell of his ass. Puck’s teeth scraped over Kurt’s left cheek, sinking into pale skin until Kurt gasped and twisted to try to get a look.

“Did you just bite me?”

He didn’t sound all that mad about it, though. Mostly he just sounded kind of surprised, so Puck grinned against his skin and pressed a kiss to the red mark he’d left behind. “I can’t help it, babe. You taste so good.”

Kurt huffed a breathless laugh, but the sound shifted into a moan when Puck pulled his fingers free. “Noah...”

“Geez, have a little patience. I know I’m a stud, but I’ve only got two hands here.”

“It’s not your hands I’m interested in at the moment,” Kurt answered, surprising a laugh out of Puck. He’d been kind of pushy last night, sure, but he’d been pretty drunk too, and Puck sort of expected the shy routine once Kurt sobered up, at least until he got used to being naked with somebody else.

Not that he was complaining or anything. He kind of liked that Kurt wasn’t all tense and nervous like...well, like some virgin. And he was a virgin, technically, but Puck liked that he wasn’t scared to give it up. He liked that Kurt wanted to do this with _him_ , that he hadn’t chosen somebody from that gay school he went to for awhile instead.

And okay, maybe this was all sort of an accident, but Kurt still wanted him, and that was what mattered.

Puck reached for the lube again, then he gripped Kurt’s hips and pulled him onto his knees. He flipped open the lube and poured some more on three fingers this time, and he wasn’t convinced Kurt could take it, but if Kurt wanted to try, Puck wasn’t going to say no.

Then Kurt did take it, moaning low and dropping his forehead on his arms where they rested on the mattress. The muscles in his back were taut, stretched hard under pale skin as he pushed back onto Puck’s fingers.

They sank in slow, so slow it made his dick ache just to watch, and he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to fuck Kurt for real. But he was going to find out, then he was going to do it over and over again, and maybe one of these days he might even work up the courage to let Kurt do him.

Puck laughed at the thought, kind of breathless and higher than usual, but he was pretty sure Kurt hadn’t noticed. Not if the way he was breathing was anything to go by, anyway. He was panting harder than ever, making little noises in the back of his throat and Puck was sure it was too much, that any second now he was going to, like, _pass out_ or something, and then Puck wouldn’t have a clue what to do.

Before he could panic about Kurt hyperventilating or something, Kurt reached out with one hand, feeling around on the mattress and Puck was about to ask if he wanted more lube when Kurt shoved something over his shoulder in the direction of Puck’s chest. Puck reached out and took the condom with his free hand, frowning down at it for a second before he looked at Kurt again.

“Is this one of the ones Ms. Holliday handed out in sex ed last year?”

“Well, it’s not as though I’ve had a use for them before now,” Kurt answered, and Puck grinned and leaned in to press another kiss against Kurt’s shoulder.

His fingers were still buried in Kurt, tight heat pulsing around them and Puck twisted them a little, just to hear Kurt moan before he pulled them free and then pushed them right back in again. Kurt was murmuring something that didn’t sound like English, forehead pressed against his arm again and pushing back against him, driving his fingers as deep as they could get.

“Jesus, that’s hot.”

Puck was only vaguely aware of the sound of his own voice, but when he heard Kurt say his name again, whispering it like it was some kind of prayer, he groaned and pulled his fingers free. Kurt moaned at the loss but Puck ignored him, lifting the condom to his mouth and tearing the foil open with his teeth.

He’d always hated the damn things; they made him feel clumsy and if he didn’t get it on soon enough he shot too soon and totally blew the big moment. So he’d avoided them as much as he could, but if it was a deal breaker for Kurt, then he wasn’t going to say no to that either.

He rolled the latex down his dick, squeezing the tip to get the air out and then squeezing the base of his cock until the urge to come settled down a little. He reached for the lube again, and Jesus, they’d probably used half the bottle already, but it wasn’t like they could bring it back on the plane anyway. So Puck poured some more into his hand and ran it over his cock, then he pushed two slick fingers back inside Kurt.

“You’re really sure about this.”

Kurt’s only answer was a broken laugh, muffled by the mattress where his face was pressed against the sheet. He figured that was as close to a yes as he was going to get, so he pulled his fingers free and gripped his cock, then he lined himself up and held his breath while he pushed the tip of his cock inside Kurt for the first time.

When Kurt gasped and clenched hard around the sudden intrusion Puck froze, heart hammering hard in his chest and his teeth digging into his bottom lip to keep him from moving before Kurt was ready. His hands stroked up and down Kurt’s back, and when he heard somebody making little soothing noises he realized it was him.

Slowly Kurt relaxed around him, and Puck felt himself sink a little further into tight heat. Kurt was breathing harder than ever, hands clenched in the sheets and Puck could feel Kurt’s thighs shaking against his. He counted a beat, then two, all the way to ten before Kurt relaxed a little more, and Puck slowly pulled out until the head of his cock rested against a tight ring of muscle, then he slid back inside.

This time Kurt pushed back to meet him, and Puck could tell it was an effort, because his whole body was flushed red except where his knuckles were white from twisting the sheet in his fingers. They moved slow, and it was torture, because all Puck wanted to do was thrust forward over and over until he came screaming Kurt’s name. But he wanted Kurt to want to do this again sometime, so he forced himself to go slow, letting Kurt set the pace until he was gasping and pushing back a little harder against Puck.

Then he said it again, _Noah, please,_ low in his throat this time and so goddamn _needy_ that Puck knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He pulled out almost all the way, then thrust forward, bottoming out inside Kurt with a grunt. His fingers flexed on Kurt’s hips, holding him up and pulling him back to meet Puck’s thrusts until they were moving in sync. Kurt’s whole body trembled with each thrust, high pitched, needy little noises escaping his throat and even that was hot, because it meant Kurt wanted this enough to let himself lose control.

Puck knew how important control was to Kurt. He hadn’t paid all that much attention for the first couple years, sure, but once he did notice Kurt, even Puck could see how tightly wound he was. How _careful_ he was, with his clothes and the way he talked and even the way he sat in his chair, legs crossed tighter than a nun’s and his arms wrapped around him like he might fall apart if he didn’t hold himself together.

He’d seen Kurt fight to hold onto that control when his dad got sick and everybody tried to force their version of God on him, and he’d seen Kurt finally lose it and let himself cry. He let himself be _human_ in front of them, and at the time Puck just thought it was nice to know he could.

But seeing him like this, his whole body shaking and pushing back for more, making little noises that barely sounded human and chanting something Puck thought might actually be in another language...well. It was pretty hot, but more than that, it was cool that Kurt trusted him enough to let him see it.

Then Kurt rocked back hard against him and let out another moan, clamping down hard around Puck’s dick and coming without either of them touching him. Puck knew he couldn’t last long, not after that, so he didn’t even try. He just held on, fingers digging into Kurt’s hips while Kurt pulsed around him, pulling out with an effort and thrusting forward one last time before he came.

He managed to roll sideways when he collapsed so he wouldn’t knock the wind out of Kurt, hitting the mattress and bouncing a little as he stretched out to grin up at the ceiling. “That was fucking _awesome_.”

When Kurt didn’t answer Puck turned his head to look at him, watching dark eyelashes curl against pale skin and the pleased little smile turning up the corners of Kurt’s mouth. Puck reached out and curled a hand around Kurt’s cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip and when Kurt’s lips parted to suck the tip of Puck’s thumb between his teeth, Puck’s cock stirred.

His tongue slid across the rough pad of Puck’s thumb, sending a fresh shiver down his spine. Then Kurt’s eyes opened and he let Puck’s thumb slip from between his lips, his own hand coming up to rest on Puck’s cheek as Kurt leaned in to kiss him. It was slow and kind of soft, not a lot of tongue or anything, but it was still pretty hot. Then again, everything about Kurt was turning out to be hot, and Puck was starting to think this whole marriage thing was the best idea he’d ever had.


	6. Chapter 6

If anyone had asked Kurt who he expected to be his first, the absolute last name on the list would have been Noah Puckerman.

Well.

Maybe Puck rated above Karofsky, just by virtue of not being a complete creep. And given the fact that he hadn’t actively bullied Kurt since the beginning of sophomore year, he probably rated above the rest of the jocks at McKinley, at least the ones who weren’t also members of New Directions.

Technically he rated above Blaine, too, since Blaine had made it clear fairly quickly into their relationship that he wasn’t interested in being more than friends after all. He’d even given Kurt the ‘it’s not you’ speech, which was just as big a farce as they said it was in the movies. And by that logic, Finn was about level with Blaine, which pushed him below Puck on the list as well. The fact that he was Kurt’s stepbrother pushed him a little lower, even.

So that left Puck...somewhere in the middle. He was below Sam, Mike, possibly Artie, and, of course, the number one spot, ‘dashing stranger who’s waiting to sweep me off my feet the second I leave this one-horse town behind’. But he was above...a lot of people. Most of the people Kurt actually knew, in fact. It was an unsettling thought, and he was still frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling when Puck kissed his cheek, then climbed out of bed and padded across the room to the bathroom.

Kurt turned on his side to watch Puck go, admiring the view he’d tried so hard not to admire that morning. It was difficult to believe it had only been twenty-four hours since all this started, but here they were -- again -- and Kurt couldn’t even say he was sorry.

He listened to Puck fumbling with something in the bathroom, and when he swore Kurt assumed he was dealing with the condom. If he was leaving behind a mess for the housekeeping staff to deal with...well, this was Las Vegas, and they’d probably seen much, much worse. Kurt had seen CSI, after all; he knew what depraved things went on in these rooms.

His nose wrinkled at the thought and he glanced at the sheet under him, hoping the hotel used plenty of bleach in its laundry as he levered himself off the bed. His ass burned even more than it had when he woke up, which wasn’t a surprise, but he had a feeling it was going to make tomorrow’s plane ride less than comfortable. _Worth it,_ he thought as he reached the bathroom door and spotted Puck, perfect muscles rippling across his back as he wiped himself clean with a wad of toilet paper.

Kurt flushed and tried not to look quite so much like the virgin he wasn’t anymore, then he crossed to the sink and turned on the hot water. He was reaching for a washcloth when he spotted Puck in the mirror, and Kurt looked up at their reflections as Puck stopped just behind him and slid warm arms around his waist.

“Come back to bed, babe.”

“In a minute,” Kurt said, but he tilted his head to the side to give Puck’s mouth better access to his neck. “I need to clean up first.”

“Why? I’m just gonna get you all covered in me again.” Puck proved his point by licking a wet stripe from Kurt’s shoulder all the way to his ear, and Kurt shivered and squirmed in his grip.

“It’s not...I meant I need to clean up the lube. It’s not really that comfortable after awhile,” he said, and he’d read enough to know sort of what to expect, but having to explain it to Puck was beyond embarrassing.

For a few seconds Puck didn’t answer, and Kurt was starting to wonder if he was even listening or if Kurt’s neck was so fascinating that he hadn’t heard. Then Puck let go of him to reach for the faucet, turning off the water.

“Noah, I’m serious.”

“Relax, babe,” Puck said, turning Kurt away from the sink and looking at him with such a self-satisfied expression that Kurt didn’t even bother trying not to roll his eyes. “I got this.”

Before Kurt could argue Puck was dragging him toward the shower, stepping into the stall and pulling Kurt with him. And Kurt wasn’t sure how badly he wanted an audience for this whole process, but he had to admit he didn’t hate the idea of showering with Puck. The washcloth was still clutched in his hand, and Puck reached for it before he turned the water on and adjusted the temperature.

He held the thick cotton under the spray until it was thoroughly wet, then he slid an arm around Kurt and pulled him flush against Puck.

And oh, he was strong, which was something Kurt had always known about him, given their history, but he’d never had reason to find it so attractive until now. Puck’s arm flexed against him when he reached around Kurt, dark eyes focused on him as he spread Kurt open with one hand and slid the washcloth over his sore opening.

Kurt hissed at the contact, blushing furiously and he hoped Puck would think it was the temperature of the water and not his pathetic lack of experience making him blush all the way to his toes. “I’m perfectly capable..."

“Shut up,” Puck said, but before Kurt even had a chance to get indignant, Puck leaned in to press a chaste kiss against his lips.

A hazy memory flooded Kurt’s mind of Puck saying those exact words to him, but in Kurt’s memory he was laughing. He closed his eyes and tried to hang onto vague images of his hand in Puck’s as someone arranged them in front of what was probably a hideous backdrop. He remembered the flash of light -- a camera, Kurt realized, and he had to remember to ask about wedding pictures at some point -- and Puck looking at him.

Kurt remembered turning his head to look back at Puck, remembered the moment of clarity when the Cosmopolitans he’d drunk released their grip on him long enough to let him register that he’d just _married Puck_.

“Oh my God,” Kurt had said, and he could only assume that he'd blushed, “I just married a straight football player. I’m officially the world’s biggest gay cliche.”

The Puck in his memory frowned at him for a second, then he laughed and shook his head and leaned close to murmur, “You need to pay more attention, dude. I haven’t been straight for like a year.”

“So you’re not going to wake up tomorrow and want to kill me for getting my gay on you,” Kurt said, and it wasn’t even a question, because it was impossible that he was even having this conversation, let alone that Puck might actually be less than completely heterosexual.

“Kurt,” Puck had said, then he’d gripped Kurt’s chin and grinned at him up close, “shut up.”

The sensation of the washcloth sliding over sensitive skin brought him back to the present, and Kurt bit his lip to stifle an embarrassing moan and pressed his forehead against Puck’s shoulder.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?" Puck asked, voice sort of gruff like maybe he was trying not to show the effect the situation was having on him.

Kurt shook his head against Puck’s shoulder, then he looked up and met Puck’s gaze. His breath caught in his throat and he felt his heart race, pounding against his chest and any second now Puck was going to feel it. He surged forward to kiss Puck, teeth clashing less than gracefully but he didn’t care. He was pretty sure Puck didn’t care either, at least not if the way he sort of growled against Kurt’s mouth and dropped the washcloth to wrap both arms around him was any indication.

A few seconds later Kurt found himself backed up against the shower wall, skin sliding against wet tiles and Puck’s tongue in his mouth. Puck’s chest was pressed against his, hot and wet and it was hard to believe this was really happening and it wasn’t all some crazy dream. That it was happening to _him_ , and with someone he’d known for his entire high school career.

He wasn’t naive enough to think they could go back to Lima and just be _married_ to each other without any repercussions. Their families would certainly have something to say about it, and their reactions were the least of Kurt’s worries. There was the rest of the school to think about; the jock squad wasn’t going to be happy, and just because Puck’s high school sports career was almost over, that didn’t mean they were just going to let this go.

Which meant Puck might start rethinking how badly he really wanted to see this thing through as soon as they got back to school, and Kurt only had one night to give Puck as much incentive as he could to stick around.

Kurt broke the kiss to look at Puck, staring into eyes blown wide with lust and the knowledge that it was for him made Kurt’s stomach flutter. He took a deep breath and slid to his knees, hands resting on Puck’s thighs and if his fingers trembled a little, it was only because he was fairly sure this was the first time he’d ever had Puck’s dick in his mouth.

He wasn’t positive. Their wedding night was still fairly hazy, and while Puck had mentioned some of what they'd done, Kurt was sure there had been more to it than Puck sucking him off and then Kurt passing out. At least he _hoped_ there was more than that, because if he'd just gotten off and then fallen asleep that had to go down as one of the worst wedding nights in history.

Even the possibility that he might have fallen asleep on Puck was enough to spur him into action, and Kurt swallowed and slid his hand up to wrap it around Puck’s dick. It felt thick and heavy and it was hard to believe it had actually fit inside him, let alone felt as good as it had. It had hurt a little too, but Puck had been careful -- more careful than Kurt would have expected -- and mostly it had just felt amazing.

Kurt wanted to make Puck feel that good, wanted to...thank him, maybe, or at least give Puck something else to think about when he was being slushied for getting himself hitched to McKinley’s resident homo. His hand worked up and down Puck’s length, soft at first as he got a feel for the shape of Puck’s dick. He ran his thumb over the tip, smiling at the sharp intake of breath above him and glancing up to watch Puck brace his hands on the slick tile wall.

“Do that thing with your tongue again, babe,” Puck said, voice sort of breathy and Kurt hadn’t actually done anything with any part of his mouth yet, which meant they had done this before.

He didn’t remember what thing Puck was referring to, exactly, but knowing he’d already done this and that Puck had enjoyed at least part of it gave him the confidence to lean in and press a kiss to the side of Puck’s cock.

“What thing?” he asked, then he flattened his tongue against the underside and licked a hot stripe from the base to the tip. “That?”

Puck groaned above him, hands slipping a little on the tiles and Kurt felt the moment when he locked his knees to keep him upright. “The...the other thing.”

“This?" Kurt asked, then he closed his mouth around the head of Puck’s cock and slid his lips down as far as he could, tongue sort of circling the shaft the way he’d seen guys do in porn sometimes.

Puck made a choked noise and shook his head, and Kurt pulled his mouth off Puck’s dick and stroked with his hand a few times. There were lots of things he could probably do with his tongue, some of which Puck had likely done to him already. Kurt might even remember one or two of them if his brain hadn’t short-circuited right around the time he figured out that Puck actually _wanted_ him.

So he was stuck with improvising, but apparently he’d done okay the night before, so he decided to go with his instincts and hope to stumble on whatever thing it was that Puck liked so much. Kurt's thumb slid over the tip of Puck’s cock again, and when he moaned and leaned his forehead against the tiles Kurt leaned in and licked the head of Puck’s cock.

That got him another moan, even more broken than the last, and a hand sliding into his hair. Puck’s fingers flexed hard against his scalp when Kurt did it again, so he closed his mouth around the head of Puck's cock again and sucked. His hand was still working Puck’s length, tongue flat against the tip of Puck’s cock and then teasing the slit, just a little, and when Puck moaned his name and gripped his hair hard enough to hurt for a second, Kurt had a feeling he might have figured it out.

Kurt looked up to find Puck watching him, eyes impossibly darker and his lips parted, staring down at Kurt like he was the best thing Puck had ever seen.

“Fuck, I love your mouth,” Puck said, and Kurt’s heart hammered hard in his chest at the word ‘love’. He knew it didn’t mean anything; Puck was just talking about sex, but if Kurt could make him feel good enough to keep coming back for more, maybe it would buy him a little more time.

He took a deep breath and swallowed Puck’s cock, fighting the urge to gag when he felt the tip hit the back of his throat. Then he pulled off until just the head was resting between his lips, tongue teasing Puck’s slit and his hand still working the shaft. When Puck grunted above him Kurt did it again, taking him in as far as he could without actually choking himself, then pulling off to do the thing with his tongue that Puck seemed to like so much.

They found a rhythm together, Puck’s hand still flexing in Kurt's hair and hips pushing forward to fuck Kurt’s mouth, and Kurt let him, his free hand on Puck’s ass to guide him through each stroke. He lost count of how many times Puck thrust into the wet heat of his mouth before he grunted a warning and came on Kurt’s tongue. Kurt swallowed around him once, then again, choking a little and easing off Puck’s length to lick him clean.

When he stopped shaking Puck reached for Kurt’s arm and pulled him back to his feet, pressing him against the tiles and kissing him so hard their teeth clicked for the second time. And they were going to have to be careful about that, or they’d be spending a lot more time in Dr. Carl’s office than Kurt really wanted to. He laughed against Puck’s mouth, but the sound shifted into a moan when Puck reached between them to close his hand around Kurt’s dick.

He stroked Kurt in rough, sure movements, his grip twisting a little with each upstroke and his thumb sliding through the slickness at the tip of Kurt’s cock. It barely took any time at all before Kurt was panting and pushing up into Puck’s hand, making utterly humiliating little whining noises and maybe later he’d even remember to be embarrassed.

Or maybe not, because the next thing he knew Puck’s mouth was pressed against his neck, just below his ear, tongue teasing a spot that Kurt had no idea was that sensitive, but apparently Puck was already well acquainted with it.

“Fuck, you’re hot when you’re all needy," Puck whispered, the words hot against Kurt’s skin and sending a fresh shiver of want curling through his stomach. “Come on, baby, I want to see you come.”

Which was apparently all it took, because a second later Kurt was moaning and thrusting wildly into Puck’s grip and coming on Puck’s fingers and his own stomach. He leaned hard against the wall, fighting to catch his breath as Puck pressed soft kisses down his neck to his shoulder, then back up the underside of his chin to claim Kurt’s mouth again.

Kurt’s arms slid around Puck’s neck, fingers tracing the broad expanse of his shoulders. The spray from the shower hit Puck’s skin and ran down his back in little rivers, and Kurt chased the drops with his hands until Puck was pressing even closer, holding Kurt against the shower wall with his entire body. A hand landed on his ass, warm fingers dipping between his cheeks, then Puck pulled back to look at him.

“You good?” he asked, and when Kurt realized what he meant, he flushed and nodded.

Puck grinned and reached behind him to shut off the water, pulling away from Kurt in the process and Kurt bit his lip against a sigh. His fingers were starting to wrinkle, though, which meant they’d been in the shower too long already. He followed Puck out of the stall, taking the towel Puck held out for him and drying off.

“There are pictures somewhere, aren’t there?” Kurt said, watching Puck run a towel over his bare skin. “I remember being made to pose in front of some hideous background.”

Puck paused long enough to glance over at him, laughing and looking Kurt up and down. He flushed again, but he didn’t bother wrapping the towel around himself. Chances were good Puck would just pull it right back off anyway, so Kurt leaned against the counter and rubbed at his damp hair while he waited for Puck to finish.

“Yeah, they’re in my bag.”

Puck dropped his towel on the floor, and Kurt frowned and wondered just what he was in for in this marriage. Then again, worrying about Puck’s housekeeping habits implied that they’d be living together at some point, and that...well, Kurt wasn’t sure how realistic that was. There had been a wedding ceremony, sure, and apparently they were dating now, but a ceremony and a piece of paper didn’t guarantee they’d stay together.

Kurt had already been accepted at Ohio State, and granted, it wasn’t his first choice, but it was what they could afford now that he and Finn were both going to college. Still, it wasn’t Lima, and his housing application and deposit had already been sent in. He had the next four years of his life laid out, and he wasn’t sure how -- if -- Puck fit into the picture.

“Found them,” Puck called from the bedroom, and Kurt shook himself and wandered back in to find Puck standing next to his bag with a large envelope in his hand. He looked up when Kurt walked back into the room, grinning and sitting down on the edge of the bed to pat the mattress next to him.

Kurt was well aware of Puck’s eyes on him as he crossed the room, but he did his best not to blush at the attention. When he reached the bed he let Puck pull him down next to him, then he let Puck kiss him again. By the time Puck let him up for air they were both stretched out on the bed, the envelope abandoned somewhere behind Puck and Kurt craned his neck to make sure they weren’t accidentally squashing their wedding pictures.

As soon as Puck realized what he was doing he rolled his eyes, but he stretched out an arm and grabbed the envelope, handing it to Kurt before he sat up and settled himself against the headboard. Kurt sat up next to him and tugged the covers over his lap, then he opened the envelope and pulled the pictures out.

He expected a handful of badly lit shots, maybe the two of them standing in front of an image of the Strip in the clothes they’d had on when they stumbled into the chapel. What he found instead was more than a dozen pictures, mostly the two of them in matching tuxedos, but a couple of the pictures had Sam, Finn, Mike and Artie flanking either side of them, grinning and glassy-eyed like the world’s most idiotic wedding party.

There was a tacky metal palm tree in one of them, but there wasn’t an Elvis impersonator in sight, and given the alternative, Kurt could live with a metal palm tree. There was one of just their hands, Kurt’s posed over Puck’s so that both their rings were showing. But his favorite was the one where neither of them were looking at the camera; instead they were looking right at each other, Puck’s hand under Kurt’s chin and a dopey grin on his face, and Kurt heard Puck’s voice again, saying, “Kurt, shut up.”

“That’s a good one, huh?” Puck said, pulling the picture out of Kurt’s hand to look at it. “We should, like, frame it or whatever.”

Frame it. He had a point; it was exactly the picture anyone would choose to frame, to hang over the fireplace or on the dresser in their bedroom, just to remind themselves of what was meant to be one of the happiest moments of their lives. Only they weren’t going home to share a bedroom, and there certainly wasn’t any mantel to hang their picture over. He had no idea what happened when they got home. He had no idea what Puck _wanted_ to happen, or if he’d even thought beyond the weekend.

“Noah...”

That was as far as he got before the lock clicked, and Kurt looked over his shoulder in time to see the door swing open. A second later Finn stuck his head in the room, eyes going wide when he spotted Kurt and Puck.

“Dude,” Puck said, frowning at Finn, “what part of ‘Do Not Disturb’ are you not getting?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, glancing from Puck to Kurt’s naked back and then back to Puck again. For a few seconds he just stood there blinking at them, and Kurt was starting to wonder if maybe he’d had an aneurysm or something when finally he mumbled another apology and pulled the door shut.

As soon as he was gone Puck laughed, then he reached for the envelope and slid the pictures back inside. When he was done he set them down on the nightstand, and Kurt smiled in spite of his embarrassment at the interruption, because Puck actually cared what happened to their wedding pictures. As though that made any sense at all, but he was starting to suspect that there was a lot more to Puck than Kurt had ever given him credit for.

Once the pictures were safe Puck turned toward Kurt and slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him forward and planting a kiss on his cheek. “What were you going to say, babe? Before Hudson stuck his nose where it doesn’t belong, as usual.”

Kurt remembered perfectly well what he’d been about to ask Puck. He wanted to know where they went from here; Puck said he wanted to date, but in a few months Kurt’s whole life was supposed to change, and he had no idea if Puck was even planning to go to college. He wanted to know if it was even worth trying to get his father used to the idea of them, or if Puck was going to get tired of playing house as soon as things got hard.

But it was their honeymoon, technically, or at least as close as they were going to get, and Kurt wanted to enjoy it, at least for tonight. He shook his head and smiled at Puck, hand on his cheek to trace the angle of Puck’s cheekbone before he leaned in to press their lips together.

“It doesn’t matter. We can talk about it tomorrow.”


	7. Chapter 7

Puck expected a few looks when he and Kurt showed up in front of the hotel the next morning. He figured Finn had told at least a few of them what he’d walked in on the night before -- and he should be thanking whatever God he believed in that he hadn’t walked in half an hour later -- but judging by the looks on everybody’s faces when they stepped through the front door holding hands, Finn hadn’t said a word.

Well, Schue didn’t look all that surprised, which made Puck wonder exactly where Finn had gone after they kicked him out of the room, but he didn’t ask. Instead he let go of Kurt’s hand, then tossed his bag and Kurt’s suitcase in the back of the van Schue had rented to take them to the airport.

When he turned back to the rest of the group Kurt was surrounded by the girls, Mercedes on one side of him and Rachel on the other, each of them clutching an arm and probably pumping Kurt for details. And yeah, he got it, they had questions. But Kurt was _his_ boy, and it was bad enough they were going back to Lima where they wouldn’t be able to wake up in the same bed every day, at least not until they were done with school.

He didn’t want to have to share Kurt yet, not before they even got on the plane. Puck had half a mind to reach into their little pow-wow and pull Kurt out, but before he got a chance a hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with Finn.

“Listen,” Finn said, his face red like Kurt’s got when he was naked and Puck stared at him too long, and Puck figured maybe that had something to do with the amount of naked Finn had seen the night before. “I’m sorry about walking in on you guys. I guess I figured after the way Kurt acted all day yesterday that you’d be alone.”

He made a decent point, though Puck didn’t say so. Instead he shook his head and glanced at Kurt again, catching his eye and laughing when Kurt rolled his eyes and tilted his head in Rachel’s direction.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning back to Finn again. “Sorry about kicking you out of the room. Where’d you crash, anyway?”

“With Schue,” Finn said, and when Puck raised an eyebrow he blushed even harder. “Dude, not like that. He had an extra bed in his room. We watched the Diamondbacks game. He wouldn’t even let me have a beer.”

Puck huffed a laugh at that, because only Finn would expect Schue to let him drink. Schue was the only teacher who’d ever offered up his cell number and what amounted to an open invitation to drunk dial him; there was no way he was going to let them drink right in front of him. He was a total failure as a chaperone, sure, but even he knew better than that.

“Did you crash with him after the wedding too?”

“Yeah,” Finn answered. “He kind of scraped me off the floor outside his door. I guess I was pretty drunk.”

Which meant Coach had probably heard about it, and Puck was kind of surprised she hadn’t come looking for him already. He cringed at the thought and glanced around the crowd, but there was no sign of her. There was of sign of Schue either, now that he thought about it, and if they were inside settling up the bill, then Puck didn’t want to be in their line of sight when they finished.

He nodded at Finn without looking at him and headed for Kurt, reaching between Tina and Brittany and grabbing Kurt’s hand. Mercedes still had a hold of his arm, and she looked a little like she was thinking about putting up a fight, but Kurt was already smiling at him, and as soon as Puck reached for him Kurt shook her off.

A few seconds later Puck was pulling him onto the van, down the center aisle to the very back. He slid into the seat next to the window and pulled Kurt down next to him, then he glanced out the window in time to watch Schue and Coach Beiste walk out of the hotel.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asked, and Puck looked down at Kurt’s hand where it was gripping his tight.

“Nothing, babe,” Puck said, looking up to grin at Kurt. “Guess I just like having you all to myself.”

It wasn’t the whole truth, granted, but it wasn’t like it was a lie. He did like having Kurt all to himself, and the thought of having to share Kurt with his friends and even his dad once they got home kind of bugged him. Maybe if they were going home to the same house it wouldn’t bother him so much, but Puck knew better than to think that was going to happen.

If he told his mom he’d gone and gotten himself hitched to a guy, she might just throw him out. There was no way Kurt’s dad was going to let him crash in Kurt’s room, so that didn’t leave them with a lot of options. At least not until they were done with school and they could get jobs and pay rent, and until that happened they were just going to have to work with what they had.

~

The truth was that Kurt didn’t really mind being dragged away from Mercedes and the rest of the girls for a little more alone time with Puck. He knew better than anyone that things were going to change just as soon as they got home, and he wasn’t any more ready to face it than Puck was. So he let Puck take his hand and pull him onto the van, down into a seat in the back to pull Kurt close and nuzzle at his neck.

It was nice, knowing Puck was willing to do this with the rest of the glee club right outside. It was certainly better than standing in the center of the girls while they asked him intrusive questions and ogled his wedding band as though they couldn’t believe he was really wearing it.

Except they’d already gone through with the wedding, so he didn’t see how wearing the ring made a difference. And really, considering the way they’d all taken Puck’s side yesterday, he’d thought they would have been happy that he was taking it seriously. He’d thought that at least he could count on New Directions to support them once they got home, and maybe it wouldn’t completely negate the reactions from the rest of the school, but at least it might make things a little easier.

The first thing Mercedes had said to him when she spotted the ring was, “You’re really going to wear it?”

"Of course,” Kurt had said, touching his ring with his thumb as he spoke. “Puck’s been wearing his since the ceremony, why wouldn’t I?”

There were glances exchanged that didn’t include him, and Kurt got the distinct impression that they’d spent at least part of their evening discussing his personal life.

“It’s just...it’s one thing while you’re here. Nobody knows you guys in Vegas. But back home...”

Back home there were at least a dozen members of the student body who would cheerfully kill Kurt, given the slightest excuse. Giving them an excuse as big as getting his gay all over Noah Puckerman wasn’t necessarily _smart_ , but Puck didn’t seem that worried about it. At least he wasn’t worried yet, and until he started thinking ahead, Kurt wasn’t going to take his ring off just to make the rest of them feel more comfortable.

“Well I, for one, applaud your commitment,” Rachel said, gripping his arm on the side Mercedes wasn’t already attached to. “Certainly it wasn’t the most responsible way to enter into something as serious as a life partnership, but it’s nice to see that you’re both taking it seriously. My dads...”

“Everybody knows about your gay dads,” Mercedes interrupted, rolling her eyes and tugging Kurt a little closer to her side. He felt Rachel’s grip on his arm tighten in response, and suddenly Kurt felt a little like one those rope toys people used to play tug of war with their dogs. “The question is, do you _love_ him?”

Kurt wasn’t surprised to hear her ask. He’d been asking himself the same question since all this started, after all. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue, and he knew what would come out if he opened his mouth. He just wasn’t sure he could trust the way he felt, not after two nights, one of which he could only remember in pieces.

He looked over at Puck, and when he found Puck looking right back at him, Kurt smiled. Then Puck was moving, reaching around Tina to grab Kurt’s hand, and Kurt shook off Mercedes and let Puck pull him away from the girls and onto the van. Once they were alone he expected to feel a little better; less like there was a heavy weight sitting on the center of his chest, maybe.

But Puck was tense and kind of distracted; he was trying to pretend he wasn’t, but it was clear from the set of his shoulders and the way he kept glancing out the window. He wouldn’t tell Kurt what was bothering him, either, and Kurt was about to point out that they could hardly have a relationship, let alone a _marriage_ , if they weren’t going to be honest with each other. Before he got the words out the rest of the club piled onto the van, and Puck sank a little lower in his seat as the others began to fill in the seats in front of them.

Kurt frowned at him, but before he could demand that Puck tell him what the problem was, Rachel was leaning over the seat in front of them, smiling in a way that told Kurt he probably wasn’t going to like whatever she was about to say.

“I’ve decided to throw you a wedding shower. Despite the fact that none of the girls were invited to the actual ceremony, we _are_ your friends, and it’s our duty to help start off your life together on the right foot.”

“That’s really not necessary,” Kurt said, mostly because he’d been to the only party Rachel had thrown in her high school career, and he knew how bad she was at entertaining. Then Puck’s hand landed on his chest, and he leaned forward to raise an eyebrow at Rachel.

“Do we get presents?”

“The term ‘shower’ implies the giving of gifts, yes,” Rachel said, “but the point is to allow the people who care about you to...”

“We’re in,” Puck interrupted, glancing past Rachel to watch Mr. Schuester and Coach Beiste board the van.

“Excellent,” Rachel said, then she flashed her scariest smile at them and turned to face the front of the van, muttering to herself about party favors, and Kurt felt his heart sink.

“Do you realize what you’ve just agreed to?” he asked, glancing at Puck and frowning when he found Puck slouched so low in the seat that he was practically sliding off the bench.

“Presents, babe.” Puck stretched up far enough to peer over Rachel’s shoulder, but when he caught sight of Coach Beiste he ducked back down and pressed himself against Kurt’s side.

“What are you doing?” Kurt hissed, but he looked so ridiculous that Kurt wasn’t sure whether to laugh or drag him back up by his ear.

“Nothing. Just keeping a low...” Puck trailed off as someone stopped next to Rachel’s seat, and Kurt looked up to find Coach Beiste staring down at them.

“Puckerman’s here,” she called back over her shoulder, and Kurt got the distinct impression that whatever Puck was hiding from had something to do with the coach. “That’s everybody.”

A few seconds later they were moving, and Coach Beiste shook her head at the two of them and then turned back toward the front of the van. When she was gone Puck straightened up a little, heaving a sigh and glancing in the direction Coach Beiste had disappeared.

“Would you like to tell me what that was all about?” Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow at Puck.

“Not really,” Puck answered, then he glanced at Kurt and let out another sigh. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth, and later he’d remember to be ashamed of how easily he let Puck distract him. But Puck was really distracting, and Kurt figured it couldn’t hurt to kiss him back, just until they got to the airport.

~

They made it all the way into the airport with no lectures or threats of detention or even any disappointed looks that left a weird feeling in Puck’s stomach. They got checked in and all the way through security, and once the dude in the uniform let them put their shoes back on and grab their bags off the conveyor belt, Puck figured he was home free.

He grabbed Kurt’s hand and pulled him toward the gate with the others, sending up a quick prayer of thanks that Schue hadn’t filled the Beiste in on what the guys had been up to all weekend. Maybe it was just because he didn’t want to admit what a lousy chaperone he was, but Puck didn’t really care _why_ so much as he cared that he wasn’t about to spend the last month of his high school career in detention every afternoon.

He should have known better than to expect his luck to change just because they were in Vegas. He should have known better than to be surprised when a hand closed around his arm right before they reached the gate, stopping him short and making him tug on Kurt’s hand where it was gripped in his, sending Kurt stumbling backwards and frowning in that annoyed, bitchy way of his.

Puck would have thought it was cute, even, if he hadn’t known exactly who’d stopped them. He took a deep breath and turned around, but he didn’t let go of Kurt’s hand, because they were married now, and that meant it was Kurt’s job to stick around for the bad stuff too, even if the bad stuff happened to be listening to Coach Beiste tell him all the reasons it was his fault they lost Nationals and Finn ended up face down in Schue’s bed all weekend.

Puck swallowed a snicker at the thought and glanced up at Beiste, and the look on her face wiped the smile off his as soon as it surfaced. “Puckerman, what did I tell you about drinking and doing stupid stuff this weekend?”

She glanced at Kurt when she said it, and Puck’s grip on his hand tightened to tug Kurt just a little closer to his side.

“You said it was my job to keep the guys from getting so drunk they blew the competition. We didn’t lose because anybody was hung over.”

For a few seconds she just stared at him, and it was weird, how she had this way of making him feel smaller just with a look. Puck figured that was the reason Schue had brought her along; he’d never managed to intimidate anybody with a look in his life, so he probably needed the back-up. It was the smartest thing Schue had done since they found out they were going to Regionals, but it wasn’t exactly working out that well for Puck so far.

“Listen, Coach, I tried to slow them down. It was five against one, what was I supposed to do?”

Coach Beiste let out a heavy sigh, then she shook her head and gave him the look that said she couldn’t believe she actually had to explain it to him. “Not getting yourself hitched to another student would have been a decent start. What the hell were you kids thinking? Do you know how much trouble the school’s going to be in when your parents find out?”

Puck sort of wanted to tell her that the school could go fuck itself, because it was nobody’s business but his and Kurt’s. Then he felt Kurt’s hand tighten around his, and Kurt took a step forward and sort of angled his hips so Puck was standing a little behind him.

“That wasn’t Noah’s fault. It was all my idea.”

It was kind of badass of him to try to take the fall, Puck had to admit. For a second he just grinned at the side of Kurt’s head, but when he looked up and saw Beiste frowning at Kurt he remembered why that wasn’t such a good plan.

“She’s got a point, babe. You were kinda drunk; I probably should have thought about what your dad was gonna say.”

Kurt turned to look at him then, hand slipping out of Puck’s to wrap his arms around his waist the way he did whenever he was pissed that Schue was sidelining him again. And Puck knew that wasn’t a good sign, so he wasn’t surprised when Kurt’s voice dropped to a weird little hissing whisper.

“My father doesn’t get a vote in this, Noah. We’re both adults, we can decide who we...” He paused, cheeks flushing and dropping his gaze to the floor between them for a second, and if they didn’t have an audience Puck would have pushed him up against the nearest flat surface and held him there until he spit out whatever he’d been about to say.

Instead he let Kurt clear his throat, then Kurt looked up, chin sticking out and hugging himself even tighter. “He doesn’t dictate who I spend my time with. He might not be happy about it, but it was my decision to make.”

“Sounds pretty selfish to me,” Coach Beiste said, and Puck saw the way Kurt’s eyes flashed.

He’d seen that look before, right before Kurt went off on Mr. Schue about his taste in music or the way he caved to Rachel all the time and landed himself in Figgins’ office. He cringed and waited for the verbal smack-down that was probably going to land them both in detention, but before Kurt could say anything, Coach was talking again.

“You boys want to be treated like adults, but you don’t even stop to think about how your parents will feel about missing out on their sons’ wedding? They might not love the idea of you getting married so young, but did you ever think that they might want a chance to be there?”

Puck could tell Kurt hadn’t thought about it by the way he blushed. Puck sure as hell hadn’t thought about it, but that was because he was pretty sure his mother wouldn’t want to be there. When she found out about this she was just going to yell at him for finding yet another way to screw up his life, and when she was done with that she’d probably start in on him about the fact that Kurt wasn’t even Jewish.

“It’s not as though we planned it,” Kurt said, but he sounded about as guilty as Puck felt.

“Exactly. You got drunk and did something without thinking, not to mention the bill you idiots ran up with the minibar. I hoped if any of you could be responsible enough to keep the others in line, it would be you, Puckerman. I guess you haven’t grown up as much as I thought.”

It sort of felt like being kicked in the gut, hearing Coach Beiste say that to him. And he’d been kicked in the gut more than once at fight clubs that got out of hand, so he knew exactly how much it hurt. The fact that Coach Beiste had that much faith in him to begin with was a pretty big surprise, and knowing that he’d let her down made him feel even worse than thinking about what his mom was going to say when she found out he’d married Kurt.

“I fail to see how that was Noah’s responsibility,” Kurt said, taking another step forward and now he was standing right in front of Puck. Which was a little embarrassing, but kind of hot at the same time, even if he was about to get them both suspended. “It was Finn and the others who emptied the minibar, not us. Anyway, Mr. Schuester’s ultimately responsible for all of this, shouldn’t you be having this conversation with him?”

For a minute she just stood there looking at him, and Puck was pretty sure she was going to, like, snap Kurt in half or something. But before Puck could pull him to safety, the corners of her mouth twitched, and the next thing he knew she was grinning at Kurt.

“Schue said you had guts, kid. It’s too bad you quit the team before I came on board. We could have used your attitude last season.”

She slapped Kurt on the shoulder so hard he stumbled forward a step, and before he even caught his balance she was gone, heading for the gate where Schue was sitting with the rest of the glee club, talking to Finn about something.

Puck waited until he was sure she was out of earshot before he looked at Kurt again. “Man, I thought for sure she was gonna kill you.”

“She had no right to expect you to be responsible for the rest of our behavior,” Kurt said, eyes still narrowed in Coach Beiste’s direction, but when Puck slid an arm around his shoulders he leaned into Puck’s body heat. “You can’t be expected to make up for Mr. Schuester’s incompetence, no matter how much the rest of the team looks up to you.”

He had a point, and judging by the way Coach grinned right before she practically knocked him over, Puck figured she thought so too.

“Still,” he said as they made their way over to a couple empty chairs near the gate, “it’s kind of cool that she thought I could handle it, you know?”

“Of course you can handle it,” Kurt said, as though there was no question, and Puck didn’t say so, but it was kind of cool that Kurt thought so too.


	8. Chapter 8

The plane ride home was uneventful. Puck pulled Kurt into a pair of seats away from the rest of their friends, then he pushed the armrest between them out of the way and tugged Kurt as close as he could get. And he never would have pegged Puck as the clingy type, but he seemed to like touching Kurt as often as possible.

It was easy to forget what they were going back to while Puck was touching him, at least, so Kurt let himself enjoy it for as long as he could. They hadn’t discussed it or anything, but Kurt got the feeling that Puck was just as anxious as him to spend their last few hours of freedom as close to alone as they could manage.

Once they left the airport and boarded the bus back to school -- handicapped-accessible for once, thanks to the glee club’s increased budget -- it was a little harder to avoid the others, but the rest of them seemed to sense that they wanted to be left alone. Not even Mercedes tried to drag him away from Puck to give him a play-by-play of Celine’s set, and Kurt felt a little guilty for being grateful, but not guilty enough to give up the hand clasped around his or the kisses pressed against his neck and mouth.

Too soon they were pulling into the school’s parking lot, past Rachel’s dads' Subaru and Artie’s dad’s van, past Mike’s mother’s car and Quinn’s mom in the Lexus she’d gotten in the divorce. Kurt’s Navigator was still parked right where he’d left it, waiting to take him and Finn and Mercedes home.

“Do you have a ride?” Kurt asked Puck, turning away from the window to frown at him.

“Figured I’d just hitch a ride with Finn,” Puck said, which meant he was planning to make Kurt give him a ride even if they hadn’t gotten married while they were in Vegas.

“You mean you thought I’d give you a lift,” Kurt said, arching an eyebrow when Puck laughed.

“Yeah, okay, I figured there was enough room in that big-ass car of yours for me too. So what do you say, babe?” Puck asked, flashing his best grin before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “You wanna give me a ride?”

Kurt’s whole face flushed at the double entendre, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he was voluntarily married to someone who’d make a joke like that, or if it was the images the joke brought to mind. Not that the reason mattered all that much when Puck was grinning against his mouth, a hand in Kurt’s hair to hold him there while Puck kissed him.

“We have to drop off Mercedes on the way home,” Kurt said when Puck let him up for air. “Do you want to come over for awhile? You could stay for dinner, if you like.”

“Yeah? You think your dad would be cool with that?”

“Of course. It’s not as though you’ve never eaten dinner at our house before,” Kurt said, though he knew that wasn’t what Puck meant. What he meant was that he expected Kurt to tell his father about them, and he wasn’t sure how Kurt’s dad was going to react.

The truth was Kurt wasn’t really sure either. The fact that Kurt and Puck were in a relationship would be hard enough to swallow, but the fact that they’d gotten married before they actually started dating...well, that probably wouldn’t go over all that well.

Then again, what his father didn’t know wasn’t necessarily going to hurt him, and if Kurt left out the part about the wedding for a little while, it wouldn’t really make that much difference. He couldn’t keep the truth from his dad forever, of course, but he could just save that piece of news until his dad got used to the idea of Kurt dating Puck.

And if things between them didn’t work out...but thinking of that possibility made his stomach clench, and Kurt reached out before he could stop himself and gripped Puck’s hand. Puck looked at him, but if he thought there was anything strange about the way Kurt was suddenly clinging to him, he didn’t say. Instead he closed his fingers around Kurt’s and pulled him out of the seat and off the bus.

It took a few minutes for everyone to sort out their bags and say their goodbyes, but before long Kurt was unlocking the Navigator and sliding into the driver’s seat, sliding the key into the ignition while the rest of them clamored in. He glanced in the rear view mirror in time to watch Mercedes take a seat in the back next to Finn, frowning in Puck’s direction as he settled in shotgun and grinned over at Kurt.

When Mercedes caught Kurt watching her she quirked an eyebrow at him, glancing at Puck for another second before she looked back at Kurt again. “So what are you going to tell your dad?”

“I haven’t decided on the best approach yet,” Kurt admitted, shrugging and stealing a quick glance at Puck.

“Mr. Schue thinks he’ll be cool with it,” Finn piped up from the back seat, and when all three of them looked at him his mouth quirked into that crooked little smile of his. “He let me crash in his room after you guys kicked me out, we talked about it some.”

For a few seconds Kurt just frowned at him in the rear view mirror, then he shook his head and looked at the road again. “Why didn’t you just stay with Sam?”

The look on Finn’s face told Kurt that the thought had never even crossed his mind. It wasn’t even a surprise, really, because Finn’s logic had never been exactly...logical. What did come as a surprise was the way Finn grinned a second later, shrugging and leaning back in his seat. “I like hanging out with Schue. He’s pretty awesome.”

Kurt would have pointed out that Schue was a teacher, which technically precluded him from being ‘awesome’, but he was too busy pulling into Mercedes’ driveway. He shifted into park and pushed his door open, climbing down into the driveway and around the back of the Navigator to retrieve Mercedes’ bag from the pile in the back. When he hoisted it out of the car she took it from him and slung it over her shoulder before she looked at him.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Kurt?”

It was tempting to tell her the truth; he had no idea what he was doing, and there was a good chance this whole thing with Puck could blow up in his face. But the way she was looking at him felt an awful lot like pity, and he didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for him. There was no _reason_ for anyone to feel sorry for him, because he wasn’t sorry he’d married Puck.

“Evidently what I’m doing is taking my husband home for our first family dinner,” he said, and when he smiled she tried to smile back at him. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Fine, but I want details,” Mercedes called after him as he climbed back into the car. He waved at her through the windshield and didn’t say that he’d give her all the details she wanted, provided his father didn’t kill him before he got the chance.

~

It was kind of weird, hanging out with Kurt at his house. What was weird wasn’t so much the ‘hanging out with Kurt’ part, though that was still pretty new. The weird part was how _normal_ it felt, mostly because he’d spent so much time hanging out here with Finn that he already knew where everything was.

He knew where the bathroom was and he knew his way around the kitchen, he knew how to work the remote for the satellite and he even knew what channels Mr. H paid extra for. So the only real difference between this and any other time he’d hung out here was that this time he followed Kurt up the stairs to his room instead of continuing down the hall until he reached Finn’s door.

He hadn’t missed the look from Kurt’s dad when Kurt announced that they were back and that he’d invited Puck to stay for dinner. He was pretty sure Mr. Hummel had watched them climb the stairs too, so chances were good he’d seen Puck follow Kurt into his room instead of sticking with Finn like he usually did.

If he thought it was weird he didn’t say anything, though, not even when Mrs. H called them down for dinner and Puck sat next to Kurt instead of across the table with Finn. Instead Mr. Hummel sat at the head of the table, passing bowls of carrots and mashed potatoes and asking questions about the trip and the competition, nodding like he recognized the names of any of the songs the winning team performed.

The whole time Kurt was, like, _vibrating_ next to him, so tense Puck thought he might snap, and Finn just sat across the table staring at the two of them like he was afraid they were going to explode or something.

So yeah, it was weird, being the one to answer all Mr. and Mrs. H’s questions, filling them in on what he could remember about the winning team, because the truth was he hadn’t paid all that much attention at the time. It sort of made him wish Finn was still dating Rachel, just so she’d be here to fill all the silences with that voice of hers.

“So what did you boys do the rest of the time?” Mr. Hummel asked, and when the three of them just looked at each other Puck was pretty sure they were about to be busted. Though for what he wasn’t sure -- there was the drinking, yeah, but that was just one night and it would be easy enough to leave that part out. The wedding thing was kind of a big deal, but Mr. H had known for years that Kurt was into dudes, so it shouldn’t come as that big a shock that he’d finally found a dude who was just as into him.

“Come on, guys,” Mr. Hummel said when none of them answered right away. “I know you didn’t spend the entire weekend in Las Vegas rehearsing for your show. Kurt, didn’t you say you and Mercedes were going to go see some singer while you were there?”

“We planned to,” Kurt said, and wow, that was the fakest smile Puck had ever seen. “But I wasn’t feeling up to it after we lost, so Mercedes and the others went without me.”

Mr. Hummel glanced at Puck, then Finn, and when Finn caught him looking he went kind of red and shook his head. “Not me. I mean, some of the girls went to the show, but the rest of us had dinner with Schue and Coach. Well, everybody except Puck. He...uh...he stayed at the hotel to keep Kurt company.”

Puck had known Finn for a long time -- a lot longer than Kurt had known him -- so he was pretty sure that was Finn’s way of trying to help. Trying to ease Mr. H into the concept of Puck and Kurt hanging out, maybe, and as far as Puck was concerned it wasn’t the worst plan ever. It wasn’t like Finn had said Puck stayed at the hotel to fuck Kurt until he couldn’t remember his own name, or even that he’d stayed behind so they could have some privacy to celebrate their wedding some more.

Judging by the look on Kurt’s face he might as well have, though, and Puck figured it was mostly because Kurt wanted to be the one to break the news to his dad. He had that whole thing about control, for one, and yeah, okay, sometimes Finn opened his mouth and said stuff that sounded okay inside his head, but not so much when he said it to other people. Which was exactly why Puck was keeping his mouth shut about anything except the competition itself.

And it didn’t mean anything that Puck had kept Kurt company on their last night in Vegas, but Mr. and Mrs. H exchanged looks across the table anyway, which meant they’d both heard enough of Finn’s logic to know exactly what he wasn’t saying. At least Mrs. H had, because her eyes went kind of wide for a second before she plastered a weird smile on her face and looked at him and Kurt.

“Are you boys...?”

She paused halfway through her sentence, like maybe she was afraid to say it out loud, and Puck figured he couldn’t really blame her. As far as she knew he was just the jerk who'd knocked up his best friend’s girl back in sophomore year, after all, and even though she’d mostly forgiven him for that whole mess by now, Finn had probably never bothered to tell her that Puck played for both teams these days.

“We hooked up while we were in Vegas, yeah,” Puck said, glancing at Kurt and swallowing hard at the look on Kurt’s face. “I mean, we talked about it and decided to date. If that’s okay with you, sir,” he added, glad that Kurt was sitting between Puck and his dad.

For a second Mr. Hummel just stared at him, and Puck couldn’t tell if he was deciding on the best way to kill Puck, or if he was just stroking out. Then he blinked and looked at Kurt, and Puck had no idea how they did it, but it seemed like they had an entire conversation in the ten seconds they sat there staring at each other.

Finally Mr. Hummel cleared his throat and glanced down the table at Mrs. H again. “Kurt’s free to date whoever he wants.”

Nobody said anything for awhile after that; Finn wouldn’t even look up, which was no surprise, and Kurt was mostly glaring at the top of Finn’s head and maybe plotting his death or something. Puck felt around under the table for Kurt’s hand, his thumb sliding across Kurt’s ring and as soon as he wrapped his hand around Kurt’s, Kurt’s fingers curled around his in a vice grip. Like maybe he was freaking out a little under the bitchy exterior, and Puck couldn’t even blame him, because announcing they were dating was one thing, but they hadn’t even broken the real news yet.

When they did...well, he was pretty sure Mr. H’s reaction wasn’t going to be as chill as _Kurt’s free to marry whoever he wants_ , anyway. Chances were pretty good he’d kick Puck out of his house and tell him not to come back, and there wasn’t much point in being married if they weren’t even allowed to see each other. But there were only a few weeks left of school, and after that they could start thinking about where they went from here. So even if Mr. H blew a gasket, they wouldn’t have that long to wait before they could be together as much as they wanted.

Puck squeezed Kurt’s hand one last time before he let go, then he picked up his fork and turned back to his dinner. He’d had Mrs. H’s cooking plenty of times, and he knew it wasn’t exactly gourmet or anything, but compared to his mom’s idea of a family dinner it was pretty good. Puck was about to say so when Kurt reached in front of him for the salad, the light catching his ring and Puck’s heart skipped a beat at the sight.

They probably should have taken them off, at least if they didn’t want anybody to figure out just what they’d done in Vegas before they were ready to break the news. But wearing his ring already felt pretty normal, and the truth was he hadn’t even thought about it until now. He hadn’t, but one of them should have, because as soon as Puck spotted Kurt’s ring the room went even more quiet than before.

He looked at Mrs. H first, and yeah, he was pretty sure the fact that she looked like she was thinking about swallowing her tongue meant she spotted it too. She looked down at Puck’s hand, and it was right there on the table next to her, so it wasn’t like he could do anything about it. When she saw the matching ring on his hand she blinked, like maybe she was hoping that she was just hallucinating or something. When that didn’t work she looked up at Puck, and it wasn’t like he could deny it, so he just shrugged and looked down at his dinner again.

“Son,” Mr. Hummel said, slow, like maybe if he took his time he’d wake up and figure out this was all some crazy dream. Except they’d been through all that already, and it definitely wasn’t a dream. “Why are you wearing my ring?”

And okay, that wasn’t what Puck was expecting. He looked over at Mr. H, then at Kurt, and when he saw the red spots on Kurt’s cheeks he had a feeling it wasn’t what Kurt had been expecting either.

“I’m not,” Kurt said, frowning and pulling his hand back, but the damage was already done, so he didn’t bother trying to hide it under the table again.

Mr. Hummel let out a heavy sigh, like maybe he thought Kurt was lying or something, and that was kind of weird, because Puck knew for a fact that he wasn’t. It was tempting to grab Kurt’s hand again, to touch the ring Puck had put there and make sure they all knew exactly what it meant. Except Kurt would just get pissed if he did, so Puck kept his hands to himself and let Kurt do the talking this time.

“It’s been over a year since Carole and I got married, Kurt,” Mr. H said, and his voice was low, like maybe he wasn’t that thrilled about having this conversation in front of company. “I thought you were okay with this.”

“I am," Kurt said, but the red spots in his cheeks were getting darker. “Why on earth would you think I wasn’t?"

“Come on, Kurt, there’s got to be some reason you went into my room and dug out my old wedding ring,” Mr. Hummel said, and Puck frowned at the memory of Kurt standing in front of a jewelry case, smiling kind of sad and picking out a pair of rings that looked like the ones his parents exchanged at their own wedding. “Just because I moved on with my life doesn’t mean you can help yourself to my things. If you wanted the ring your mother gave me...”

“This isn’t your ring,” Kurt interrupted, and now he just sounded pissed. “Go check if you don’t believe me.”

“Kurt...”

“Honey,” Mrs. H said, and her voice was quiet, but Mr. H looked at her anyway. “I don’t think that’s your old ring. Noah’s wearing one too.”


	9. Chapter 9

It took less than a minute for his father to go from concerned to angry to utterly confused. Kurt could hardly blame him; it was a lot to swallow, and he’d known his father wasn’t going to be exactly overjoyed about his news. But he didn’t see why it had to be such terrible news; his relationship with Puck had progressed more quickly than most, certainly, but he was _happy_ , and that should be all his father wanted for him, shouldn’t it?

Kurt watched his father’s mouth open, then close again. He glanced at Carole, then at Finn, but Finn was staring at his dinner as though it held the mysteries of the universe, the traitor. When his dad turned back to him and Puck he opened his mouth again, eyes narrowed and gesturing vaguely between them as though he wasn’t sure where to start.

“Any particular reason you two are wearing wedding rings?”

Kurt considered refusing to answer. He was eighteen, after all, and his personal life was his business. But he knew his father would just use his refusal as another excuse to continue treating him like a child, and he needed his dad to see that he wasn’t a little kid anymore.

“This will probably come as a bit of a surprise,” he said, and that was certainly true, because it had been a surprise to Kurt at first too, “but Noah and I got married this weekend.”

“You... _what_?” his dad said, the vein on his neck starting to bulge and Kurt felt the same stab of fear mingled with guilt he’d had the time his father had tried to kill Dave Karofsky right after his heart attack.

“Dad, your heart,” Kurt said, keeping his voice soft in an attempt to calm his father down.

“My heart’s fine. It’s your brain I’m worried about,” his dad said. “Son, if this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.” Kurt glanced to his left and caught Puck’s eye, then he reached for Puck’s hand where it rested on the table next to him.

It felt…strange, holding Puck’s hand in front of his entire family. Like maybe Puck was going to realize what they’d gotten themselves into, now that it wasn’t just New Directions around to see them. Part of him expected Puck to pull back, to pull his hand out of Kurt’s grip and laugh and say that it _was_ a joke, just a dumb joke and it didn’t really mean anything.

Then Puck’s fingers slid through his and he squeezed Kurt’s hand, and Kurt had to swallow hard against a sudden tightness in his throat.

“It’s no joke,” Puck said, and when he looked at Kurt’s father he looked sort of terrified, but he still _looked_. “It happened kind of fast, yeah, but it’s for real.”

“Kind of fast? Since when are you two even dating?”

“Since…well, since the wedding, technically.” Kurt knew how it sounded, but he managed not to wince. Instead he looked his father right in the eye, head held high and willing him not to overreact. “I realize it’s unorthodox.”

“Unorthodox? _Unorthodox?_ What the hell kind of place lets a couple kids get married, anyway? And where the hell was Schuester when this was going on?”

“We’re not kids, Dad. We’re both eighteen. We just showed them our driver’s licenses and signed a couple papers and that was it. It was surprisingly easy,” Kurt said, frowning at the vague memory of signing his name to several papers he was fairly sure he hadn’t bothered to read.

“It’s not Schue’s fault,” Finn interjected, and Kurt rolled his eyes because honestly, since when was he the president of the Will Schuester Fan Club?

When his father looked over Finn shrugged, cheeks flushing a little but he didn’t back down.

“He wasn’t even there,” Finn said, glancing across the table at Kurt and Puck. “Anyway, it wasn’t like he could stop them. Like Kurt said, they’re both legal.”

“The hell he couldn’t,” his dad said at the same moment Carole said, “Finn...”

And that, at least, they could all agree on, because Kurt didn’t understand why Finn felt the need to defend Mr. Schuester when he was supposed to be the one in charge. Okay, so technically he hadn’t been there for the wedding, but he was the one who’d left them to wander around Las Vegas by themselves, so it _was_ sort of his fault.

“It doesn’t matter who’s responsible,” Kurt said, his gaze shifting to Puck again. “Neither of us was coerced, and we’re committed to seeing this through.”

“Son, you’re eighteen, you’re not old enough to see anything through,” his father said, voice rising a little with each word, and Kurt felt himself tense. “You’ve got college in the fall, and I’ll be damned if I’m letting you screw up your whole future over some guy.”

“Noah’s not just ‘some guy’. Dad, you know him.”

It was the truth, and Kurt had been under the impression for the past year that his father _liked_ Puck. They seemed to get along well enough when he came around to hang out with Finn, at any rate, and he certainly held up his end of a conversation about sports better than Kurt could ever hope to. In a lot of ways he was the ideal son-in-law for Burt; maybe his dad would even realize that when he stopped being so angry that they’d gotten married without his permission.

“Look, Noah, this is nothing personal,” his dad said, but Kurt noticed the way he looked at their hands clasped together on the table before his gaze shifted to Puck’s face. Puck who still looked sort of terrified, which would have been cute if Kurt wasn’t too busy being mortified that his father was treating him like a little kid in front of his husband. “I just think you kids are a little young to be playing house.”

“Playing house?” Kurt repeated, and he could hear his voice creeping up an octave, but he was too angry to care.

“Honey,” Carole interrupted, “maybe we should all take some time to get used to the idea. Before anyone says anything they’ll regret.”

Kurt couldn’t tell if she was talking to him or his dad, but it didn’t really matter. What mattered was that his father wasn’t taking this seriously -- he wasn’t taking _Kurt_ seriously -- and even though he’d expected this reaction, it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Which was silly, he knew, because technically Puck was his first boyfriend, and Kurt had gone and married him before they even had a first date.

He knew it was a ridiculous situation, but the fact remained that he was happy, and he wanted his dad to be happy for him. Kurt shoved his chair back and stood up, cheeks burning and his eyes stinging, but he wasn’t going to cry in front of his entire family.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To drive my husband home, since we’re clearly not welcome here,” Kurt said. He paused long enough to look at Puck, and when he raised an eyebrow Puck shoved his chair backwards and stood up. As soon as he did Kurt turned on his heel, ignoring his father’s and Carole’s protests.

He heard his father say, “Now wait just a minute,” then Carole said, “Honey, come back,” but he was out of the dining room before they even finished talking. He didn’t look back to see if Puck was following him until he reached the front door, grabbing his keys off the table and glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Puck was right behind him, eyes kind of wide and his hands in his pockets like maybe he was expecting Kurt to start yelling at him next.

Kurt pulled the door open and let himself out of the house, stopping at the bottom of the front steps and listening while Puck shut the door behind him. He blinked a little harder against the stinging at the corners of his eyes, arms wrapped around his waist and willing himself not to cry.

“I’m sorry,” he said when Puck stopped next to him, but he didn’t look up. “I didn’t intend for you to have to witness that.”

Puck shrugged and Kurt chanced a look at him. “Believe me, it would have been a lot worse if we were at my house. My mom would still be yelling about all the ways I’ve messed up my life right now.”

“So what are you going to tell her?”

Another shrug, and now Puck looked confused and vaguely terrified. “I haven’t exactly come up with a plan yet.”

He took a step forward and pulled his hands out of his pockets to rest one on Kurt’s waist. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” Kurt lied, then he sniffed and looked away. “Maybe a little.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a few seconds, and that was just great, because now he thought Kurt was a drama queen _and_ a crybaby. Then Puck cleared his throat and let go of Kurt’s waist, his hand landing on the back of his own neck and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I don’t know how to deal with crying.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at that, but he reached for Puck’s arms and pulled them around his waist. He slid his own arms around Puck’s back and pressed his face into the soft fabric of Puck’s shirt, breathing in the mingled scents of cotton and boy.

“For the record, as long as I’m not crying about something you did, this is the appropriate response.”

“Oh,” Puck said again, tightening his grip on Kurt’s waist. His hands slid up and down Kurt’s back, slow and sort of distracting, and it was almost enough to make Kurt forget why he’d been crying in the first place. “What if it is because of something I did?”

Kurt breathed in deep one more time, then he angled his head so he could see Puck without pulling away. “Most of the time this will probably work anyway.”

~

As soon as Puck got to school on Monday he headed straight for Kurt’s locker. He ignored the crowd of students in the halls, ignored the sound of Mike calling his name and even managed to dodge Rachel and the manic gleam in her eye that told him she was planning something he probably wasn’t going to like.

He was totally focused on getting to Kurt, touching him again and making sure he’d survived whatever happened when he got home from dropping off Puck. He was even prepared for Kurt to get all weepy again; he knew what to do this time, anyway, and if he had to stand around in the hall in full view of the rest of the school and hold onto Kurt while he cried about his dad some more, it was a sacrifice Puck was willing to make.

And yeah, okay, it hadn’t been all that long since he kissed Kurt goodbye in his car and told him that everything was going to work out okay. Kurt hadn’t looked all that convinced at the time, and Puck couldn’t exactly blame him. He wasn’t even all that sure how much he believed it, not after seeing the look on Kurt’s dad’s face when Kurt told him they’d gotten hitched.

So maybe he wanted to see Kurt, just to prove to both of them that he was right and everything was cool. Maybe he kind of missed Kurt a little when he woke up alone in his own bed, because even though they’d only woken up together twice, that was enough for Puck to know he wanted to keep doing it.

And okay, the first time kind of sucked, what with the puking and the bitching and then Kurt hightailing it out of there before Puck could give him a reason to stay. But the second time...the second time made up for the bitching and the scene at rehearsal. Hell, it even made up for the puke. Waking up to find Kurt lying on his stomach with his arms folded under his head, just watching Puck _sleep_ like it was the most interesting damn thing he’d ever seen...yeah, that made up for a lot.

It didn’t make up for all the time Puck had wasted when he could have been making out with Kurt, but when Kurt smiled and let Puck pull him close, and when Kurt didn’t even bitch at him to go brush his teeth before he let Puck kiss him, that made up for the rest.

So yeah, he wanted to see Kurt, wanted to press him up against the lockers and show the entire school that Kurt was his now. He wanted to see how long it would take for Kurt to say the word ‘husband’ again, because he seemed to get a kick out of saying it, and Puck kind of liked hearing it. He didn’t know _why_ he liked hearing it, but it kind of made everything feel a little more real, so as long as Kurt wanted to keep on saying it, Puck wasn’t complaining.

When he got to Kurt’s locker Kurt was already there, frowning at his books like they’d been talking smack about his outfit or something. Puck leaned against the locker next to his and waited for Kurt to look up, grinning when Kurt’s eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed.

“Miss me?” Puck asked, then he reached out and slid a finger through Kurt’s belt loop to tug him forward.

He didn’t really get why Kurt looked so surprised to see him, but he didn’t waste a lot of time worrying about it. Instead he dragged Kurt close and slid an arm around his waist, then he leaned in and pressed their lips together. As soon as he did Kurt tensed against him, and Puck frowned and pulled back far enough to look at him.

“What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem,” Kurt said, but he was looking around them like maybe he was expecting an audience or something. Like he was expecting something to happen, and if the look on his face was anything to go by, whatever he was expecting wasn’t good. “I just don’t usually see you until Glee, that’s all. I wasn’t sure…”

“What?” Puck asked when Kurt paused, and now he was staring down at the floor between them like it was a contest. “You thought I’d wake up and decide I liked having the bed all to myself after all? Because I didn’t, babe. Waking up without you totally sucked.”

Kurt looked up at him, eyes still wide and surprised, then he looked down the hall again. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t want the rest of the school to know about this.”

For a few seconds Puck just stared at him, like maybe if he waited long enough Kurt would laugh and say he was just kidding. Because they were wearing fucking _wedding rings_ , and they’d spent like half an hour parked outside his house last night, mostly making out, yeah, but there was some talking too, about how much Kurt’s dad hated Puck now. Kurt swore he didn’t, but Puck wasn’t buying it, which meant he couldn’t even go hang out in Kurt’s room and listen to his shitty music and just, like, watch Kurt _breathe_.

So the last thing on his mind was what anybody at school was going to think, but it was pretty clear from the way Kurt kept looking around that he was worried about it.

“What the hell? I stopped caring what these douches think when they made you defect to that gay school. I mean, we’re fucking _married_ here, Kurt. Why’d you say all that stuff to your dad last night if you didn’t mean it?”

“I did mean it,” Kurt said, and now he looked scared and kind of embarrassed, but when he reached for the front of Puck’s shirt his ring was still right where Puck had left it. “I did, Noah. I just...I’m sorry.”

He paused and took a breath, his fingers curling around the front of Puck’s shirt like he was worried maybe Puck was going to make a break for it. But that was one thing he didn’t need to worry about, because Puck wasn’t planning on going anywhere. Not as long as Kurt wanted him around, and he kind of hoped the ring on Kurt’s finger meant he’d keep wanting Puck around for a long time.

This time when Puck leaned in Kurt didn’t tense and start looking around like he was wondering what direction the slushie was coming from. Instead he let Puck kiss him, sighing against his mouth and curling his fingers a little tighter around Puck’s shirt. By the time Puck was satisfied that he’d made his point Kurt was leaning hard against him, one hand still fisted in the front of his shirt and the other resting on the back of Puck’s neck.

He was breathing hard and his pupils were blown wide, and all Puck wanted to do was drag him into the nearest supply closet and pick up where they’d left off in his car last night. Saying goodbye and getting out of the car had been harder than Puck expected, even though they weren’t really doing anything besides making out. They couldn’t, not with the console between, but even the tease of kissing Kurt without taking it any further was better than nothing at all.

“You wanna hang out later?” Puck asked, his hand pushing under Kurt’s shirt to rest against the small of his back. “We haven’t had our first real date yet, right?”

Kurt smiled at that, soft and sort of shy, like maybe he wasn’t expecting Puck to remember that he’d promised actual dates. Puck wasn’t the one having trouble with his memory, though, and if Kurt wanted to go on dates, that was what they were going to do.

“Okay,” Kurt answered, then his smile was gone and he was frowning again. “I’d just as soon spend as little time at home right now as possible. My father’s being completely unreasonable.”

“Yeah? What’d he say when you got home? You’re not, like, forbidden to talk to me, are you?”

“Even if I was, it wouldn’t stop me. But no, he stopped short of trying to tell me who I’m allowed to date,” Kurt answered. His hands were still resting on Puck’s chest, and Puck reached up to cover them with his own, thumb sliding along Kurt’s ring until Kurt flashed another little smile. “When I got home he was still ranting about how Mr. Schuester could have let this happen. Finn was still trying to talk him down when I went to bed.”

“Schue can hold his own,” Puck said, though the truth was, given a showdown between Schue and Mr. H, Puck would put his money on Kurt’s dad. “He’s got Coach to back him up; she knows he didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Kurt nodded, but he didn’t look all that convinced. “I just wish he could see that there’s no reason to be upset in the first place.”

Puck figured there wasn’t much chance of that, but he didn’t say so. Instead he slid an arm around Kurt’s shoulders and pulled him down the hall toward his first class. And yeah, they got the occasional look as they walked down the hall together, but Puck was too busy planning their first date to notice.


	10. Chapter 10

By the time lunch rolled around the whole school knew about them. Mainly because Jacob Ben Israel caught them making out between classes and posted an all-points bulletin on his blog, complete with a blurry close-up of Puck’s ring and the caption _Resident Sex Shark finally hooked?_ After that the texts and tweets started, and it didn’t take long before people were openly staring at their hands and making insulting jokes about shotgun weddings as they passed.

But it was better if everyone found out at once; kind of like pulling off a Band-Aid, Kurt reasoned, and once everyone knew, the jock squad could get the hazing out of their systems. He still wasn’t entirely convinced that Puck wasn’t going to change his mind once the combined forces of the hockey team, the basketball team, and the football players who weren’t in Glee hit its stride, but Puck insisted that he didn’t care.

He’d certainly been acting like he didn’t care; at least he was acting as though he didn’t notice the stares and the stage whispers as they walked down the hall hand in hand. Normally Kurt didn’t even see Puck for most of the day, but Puck had walked him to every single class so far, and when class let out again there Puck was, leaning against the wall waiting for Kurt.

He had a feeling Puck was blowing off his own classes to escort Kurt through the halls, and he wasn’t sure if it was because Puck was worried that someone was going to try to punish Kurt for getting his gay on Puck, or if he just wanted to be around Kurt as much as possible. Not that he was complaining; it was an adjustment, certainly, having the entire student body stare at him because he was holding hands with Puck, but it was a lot better than being stared at just for being himself.

Then there was the way Puck’s thumb kept tracing his ring, as though he was just checking to make sure it was still there. It was sweet -- romantic, even -- and whenever he did it Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t want to believe it _meant_ anything, because they were married, sure, but they still hadn’t even gone out on a date, and who knew what would happen once they discovered they had absolutely nothing in common.

Kurt swallowed a sigh and let Puck steer him into the cafeteria, pressing back against the arm that was slung low around his waist. He could feel all eyes turning toward them as they took their places in line, but Puck seemed as oblivious as ever.

“What is that?” he asked, leaning hard against Kurt’s shoulder as he peered at something on the line just ahead of them.

“I have no idea, but if you expect me to kiss you again today, you won’t eat it.”

Puck’s laugh went straight to his dick, and Kurt felt his cheeks flush when Puck leaned close to brush a kiss just under his ear. “Not a chance, babe. I’ve got plans for that mouth.”

Kurt didn’t ask what his plans were, exactly, because he was pretty sure if he did, Puck would tell him. He wouldn’t even care who overheard, and part of Kurt wanted to die at the thought of anyone overhearing a conversation about their sex life. But there was another part of him, the part that spent the entire morning worrying himself into a panic attack about what was going to happen once they got back to school, that liked the idea of Puck being open with his affections.

It wasn’t something Kurt ever thought he’d want; he’d always thought the kinds of public displays Puck was prone to were more than a little distasteful. Now that he’d been part of those public displays, however, he was starting to see the appeal. At least it was easy enough to forget how tacky they were from the outside when he was the one being pressed up against solid muscle and kissed until he was dizzy.

No one had ever made him feel _wanted_ before – no one had ever even tried – and knowing just how much Puck wanted him made the extra stares easier to ignore.

They picked up their lunch trays and carried them to the table where most of the Glee club was already sitting, but as soon as Kurt saw the look in Rachel’s eyes he wished they’d found somewhere else to have lunch. Preferably somewhere private, with a lock on the door and no windows.

“There you are,” she said, shoving Tina and Mike out of the way so she could sit down opposite Kurt and Puck. “I’ve scheduled your wedding shower for a week from Saturday. You’ll need to register for your gifts; I’ve taken the liberty of setting up accounts for you at Target and Pottery Barn.”

She paused long enough to dig a folder out of the stack in front of her, then she shoved it across the table in Kurt’s direction. “Everything you’ll need is in there, including passwords and a price cap. Most of us are too busy focusing on our extracurriculars to have a part-time job, after all.”

“Hey, we just got _married_ ,” Puck interjected, glancing over Kurt’s shoulder at the folder that was open in front of him. “Don’t be cheap.”

“What kind of presents are we talking about here, anyway?” Finn asked from the other end of the table.

“They’re starting their lives together, Finn,” Rachel answered, turning away from Kurt long enough to give him a wistful smile. “Traditionally people buy young couples small appliances, dishes, furniture, the sort of things you need when you’re creating your first home.”

It wasn’t the first time Kurt had thought about the fact that they were essentially merging their lives, but something about hearing Rachel say it out loud made it seem much more real. Real and terrifying and exhilarating all at once, and they hadn’t even talked about what happened after high school, but now that he’d heard Rachel say it, Kurt wanted all that. He wanted the dishes and the toaster and the cheap apartment, wanted to fight with Puck about throwing his towels on the bathroom floor and about whose turn it was to take out the garbage.

He wanted to wake up with Puck every morning, the way he hadn’t done today. Waking up alone shouldn’t have felt so strange; they’d only really had one morning after together, after all, but when he woke up in his own bed this morning it was with a sense that something was missing. That some _one_ was missing, and hearing Puck say that he’d felt the same way…well, it was sort of hard to believe.

The truth was that Kurt had never expected Puck to be a romantic. The kissing and the sex, sure, that made perfect sense. But he hadn’t expected the hand-holding or the little touches, he hadn’t expected Puck to meet him after every class just because he couldn’t wait until lunch to see Kurt again. He hadn’t expected to feel so… _loved_ , not after two days of what had to be the unlikeliest marriage in William McKinley High School history.

Puck hadn’t actually said the words, of course. Kurt wasn’t really expecting him to, and he told himself he didn’t mind. He didn’t, because two days wasn’t even enough time to get to know each other, and the fact that they’d known one another for years didn’t take away the fact that they still had a lot to learn. Besides, even if Puck never said it, Kurt could _feel_ it, and that was what mattered.

Kurt glanced at Puck to find Puck watching him, mouth turned up in a smirk that made Kurt glad he was sitting down. Puck reached out, his left hand curving around Kurt’s neck and Kurt felt the press of warm metal against his skin. He leaned into the touch without stopping to consider what he was doing, and it was becoming a bit of a habit, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when Puck was looking at him like that.

“Kurt,” Finn said, and Kurt blinked and flushed at the reminder of their audience. “I thought you were moving into the dorm this fall. They don’t let you have appliances in your rooms.”

“Obviously Noah’s not going to move into the dorm with me,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes at Finn’s confused expression. “Rachel’s talking about furnishing an apartment.”

“Yeah, but you’re not still moving into the dorm.”

Kurt turned at the sound of Puck’s voice, the instinct to tell Puck he didn’t get to tell Kurt what to do just because they were married fading as soon as he saw Puck’s expression. He’d seen that look before, but it had been a long time. Years, since Quinn got pregnant and the only person who didn’t know Puck was the father was Finn.

“I don’t know. A lot’s changed in the past few days,” Kurt answered, and now he wished more than ever that they had some privacy.

“Babe, I thought the whole point of dating was to see if we could make this thing work. How are we supposed to do that if you’re living in some dorm in...where the hell are you even going to college?”

“Ohio State.”

“What, like across town?”

“No, the Columbus campus. Finn’s going too, and Mercedes. We were going to room together, but the school has archaic rules about mixed gender dorm rooms.” Kurt paused to frown at him, lips pressed together as he heard his father’s voice saying the words _playing house_ in his memory. “What are you doing after high school, anyway? I assume college isn’t part of your plan.”

Puck frowned, and for a second Kurt thought he might be insulted that Kurt just assumed he wasn’t going to college. Then he shrugged and slid a little closer to Kurt, a hand landing on him to curve around his waist. “Guess I’m moving to Columbus.”

~

It wasn’t that Puck hated the idea of moving to Columbus. It was as good a plan as any – better than the one he had, anyway – and it got him out of Lima, so that was a plus.

Before Kurt his plan for post-grad had been to get drunk, then sleep for a week, and after that maybe clean pools for awhile until he decided on a better plan. Once he and Kurt hooked up his plan got a lot more simple: hang out with Kurt. It didn’t really matter to him what they did or where they did it, as long as they were doing it together.

So they could hang out in Columbus. They could get a place and make good use of the wedding presents the Glee club was going to give them, and Puck would get a job to help pay the rent and once they got used to living together, he’d figure out a new plan.

He knew he had to do something with his life besides follow Kurt around, but until he figured out _what_ to do, exactly, he figured following Kurt around was better than doing nothing. Kurt always had a plan, anyway, and now that they were married part of Kurt’s job was to help Puck figure out what to do with his life.

At least he was pretty sure that was how it worked. He wouldn’t put money on it or anything, because it wasn’t like his dad had stuck around to show him how it was supposed to work. But he figured getting hitched made them partners, kind of like Finn used to be his wingman, only Kurt didn’t need to run interference with chicks, because he was the only one Puck would be sexing up from now on.

When Kurt walked out of his French classroom Puck pushed off the wall and fell into step with him, arm sliding around his shoulders and pulling him into Puck’s side. “So that registry thing Berry was talking about, that’s where we tell people what stuff to buy us, right?”

“Yes,” Kurt answered, and it only took him almost the entire fucking day, but he was finally starting to get with the program, because he reached up and closed his hand around Puck’s where it was resting on his shoulder. “But you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take care of...”

“Fuck that,” Puck interrupted. “You think I’m gonna let those morons buy us a bunch of lame shit if we can just tell them what we need?”

“We’re not registering for sex toys and booze,” Kurt said, and yeah, he was blushing, but he’d said the words ‘sex toys’ out loud in _school_ , and that Puck never would have seen coming. He laughed and pulled Kurt a little closer, brushed a kiss across his cheek before he leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Why not? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you married me, babe.”

He was too busy reacquainting himself with Kurt’s neck to look where they were going, so he didn’t spot the person standing in their path until Kurt pulled up short, a hand on the center of Puck’s chest to stop him in his tracks. Puck frowned and pulled back, following Kurt’s gaze until he found himself face to face with Lauren.

“I heard you put a ring on it,” she said, glancing at Kurt’s hand where it was pressed against Puck’s shirt. “I thought maybe Israel was stroking out and hallucinating.”

“There was photographic evidence,” Kurt pointed out in his best bitch voice, and it was kind of hot that he wasn’t afraid of Lauren and all, but it was also kind of stupid.

Lauren spared a quick look for Kurt, just long enough to be insulting. “Must say I’m a little surprised, Puckerman. He’s kind of scrawny.”

He felt Kurt tense next to him and tightened his grip on Kurt’s shoulder before he said something that would get him killed. “Let it go, babe. You didn’t see what she did to Santana.”

Kurt didn’t relax, but he kept his mouth shut, even when Lauren laughed.

“Relax, Hummel. Even if I wanted him back, I’m not a home wrecker. Besides, you two are kind of cute together.” She grinned at Puck, and when he smiled back at her she hit him hard on the shoulder. “Dumb, but cute.”

She was gone before Puck could ask what that was supposed to mean, but she hadn’t broken any parts of Kurt they’d need later, so Puck wasn’t complaining. Kurt was still kind of vibrating next to him, Puck figured because he had like a million insults on the tip of his tongue and he hadn’t gotten a chance to use one of them. But Lauren was cool, and they’d gone their separate ways without a lot of drama, so there was no reason to start drama when she was being cool about him getting hitched.

“So maybe we should take care of that whole registry thing before we go out tonight,” Puck said, steering Kurt out of the flow of traffic to wrap his arms around Kurt’s waist. “The sooner we tell people what we want the sooner they can start figuring out how they’re gonna pay for it, right?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he slid his arms around Puck’s neck and leaned in for a kiss. “I never would have guessed you were so materialistic.”

“I don’t know what that means.” He pressed another kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth, then another one to the sharp angle of his jaw. “But if we’re moving in together, I’m gonna make sure you’ve got all the shit you need to keep you happy.”

For a second Kurt just looked at him, and when those little red spots started in his cheeks Puck had a feeling it wasn’t because he was embarrassed this time.

“I don’t need anything, Noah,” he said, and Puck wanted to laugh, because he’d seen Kurt’s room, and he had more shit than anybody Puck knew. But Kurt was looking at him like Puck was the best thing he’d ever seen, so instead of laughing Puck just grinned and pressed forward to kiss him again.

His plan for their first date was pretty simple: dinner at Breadstix, then maybe they’d drive out to the lake and make out in Kurt’s car until they had to get home so Kurt’s dad wouldn’t have another heart attack. But Kurt was pressed hard against him, lips parted to let Puck in and making those little noises in the back of his throat that went straight to Puck’s cock, and the harder Kurt tried to fit them in the same space, the less Puck cared about dinner.

He pulled back to suggest that the registry could maybe wait until tomorrow, that food and conversation and pretty much anything that didn’t involve getting into Kurt’s pants as quickly as possible could go fuck itself. Kurt was looking at him like he had the same idea, like maybe he wanted Puck enough to let Puck talk him into blowing off their last class. And Puck had been going to class pretty regularly all year, but he was down with any plan that got him alone with Kurt, no matter how much trouble it landed them in.

He opened his mouth to say so, to grin and nod in the direction of the parking lot where Kurt’s big-ass car with its reclining back seats was waiting. But before he got the words out Kurt looked away, eyes going wide at the sight of something over Puck’s shoulder.

“Oh my God.”

“What?” Puck asked, glancing over his shoulder, and when he caught sight of the scene outside Figgins’ office, Puck let go of his waist. “Fuck.”

“I can’t believe him,” Kurt said as he watched his dad and Mrs. H walk into the principal’s office. Then he caught sight of an unfamiliar face and frowned, but Puck was too busy panicking to notice. “But who’s...”

“My mom,” Puck answered before Kurt even finished asking the question. His stomach dropped in that weird way it did whenever she started yelling at him about what a fuck-up he was, and his boner was definitely history. She looked pissed, but that could be from being dragged down to the school in the middle of a work day as much as anything else.

He felt a hand close around his and gripped it tight, his thumb finding Kurt’s ring without even thinking about it. As soon as Kurt touched him Puck wanted to drag him out of the school and into his car, wanted to tell Kurt to drive, all the way to Columbus if he wanted, just to get them out of here until his mom had a chance to calm down.

“Babe, let’s...”

That was as far as he got before a hand landed on his shoulder, and Puck looked up to find Coach standing behind them. “You two made this mess, don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning it up. Come on.”

She shoved them in the direction of Figgins’ office, and Puck had been in enough trouble over the years to know when he was busted, so he swallowed hard and squeezed Kurt’s hand and followed his mother into the principal’s office.


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt imagined this was a bit like how facing a firing squad must feel. Walking into Principal Figgins’ office to find himself facing not only his father and stepmother, but Puck’s mother, Mr. Schuester, and Principal Figgins himself certainly wasn’t fun by anyone’s definition, and the fact that they hadn’t done anything that should land them here just made it worse.

As soon as they walked in all eyes turned toward them, and when he saw Puck’s mother glance at their hands Kurt let go of Puck. He’d never met her and he didn’t know much about her aside from what Quinn had told Mercedes during the brief time she’d lived with the Puckermans, so he had no idea how she was going to react to the fact that her son had gotten married in Las Vegas. That he’d married another man, and one he hadn’t actually been dating at the time.

“Coach Beiste, we all agreed Mr. Hummel and Mr. Puckerman do not need to be here for this,” Figgins said, frowning past them at the coach, and for a second Kurt thought he was going to kick them right back out.

“I think Will’s got a right to have the whole story out there,” Coach said, her hands back on Kurt and Puck’s shoulders to shove them a little further into the room. “Nobody better to tell it than these two.”

“Shannon, I appreciate the show of support, but we don’t need to drag Kurt and Puck into it,” Mr. Schuester said. “Why don’t you guys go on back to class.”

“Wait.” All eyes in the room swung toward Puck’s mother then, and for the first time Kurt got a good look at her. She was thin, with dark hair and Puck’s eyes, but hers were lined with the dark circles that Kurt imagined sometimes came along with trying to raise a family on one income. Puck had given his mother a lot more trouble than Kurt had ever given his dad, but he still felt a stab of guilt when he glanced toward the couch where his father was sitting next to Carole.

Her purse was clutched on top of her lap, but she wasn’t cowering away from Principal Figgins or the others. Mostly she looked tired and maybe a little resigned, and Kurt wasn’t positive, but he suspected she’d been crying at some point.

“Are you saying that Noah’s _not_ the one in trouble here?”

“The school does not have a rule against students getting married, Mrs. Puckerman,” Principal Figgins said. “We are here, at Mr. Hummel’s request, to discuss William’s lack of leadership during New Directions’ trip to Nationals.”

“This is about more than a lack of leadership, Figgins,” Kurt’s father said. “Schuester let our kids wander around Vegas by themselves to do God knows what. My boy came back _married_. He wasn’t even dating anybody when he left.”

There was a loud sniff from Puck’s mother, and Kurt looked at her in time to watch her turning away from the rest of them. As though she didn’t want them to see her crying, and his heart sank as he glanced at Puck to find him staring wide-eyed at his mother. He wanted to reach for Puck’s hand again, but if Mrs. Puckerman was having a meltdown at the idea of her son being married to a man, Kurt didn’t want to make matters worse. Puck was the one who had to go back to her house eventually, and Kurt was fairly sure his own father wasn’t going to let Puck move in just because he was Kurt’s husband now.

“Ma, are you crying?”

Puck’s voice sounded loud, and Kurt couldn’t decide if it was because shock was making him talk louder than everyone else, or if it was because they’d been pressed shoulder to shoulder since Coach Beiste forced them into the office.

“I’ll deal with you when we get home,” Puck’s mother said, then she sniffed again and Kurt watched Carole dig in her own purse. A second later she was standing up and crossing the room to hand a tissue to Mrs. Puckerman, and when she leaned over to whisper something Puck’s mother cried even harder.

“But Figgins just said I didn’t do anything wrong,” Puck said, and this time Kurt did touch him.

His hand landed on Puck’s forearm, fingers pressed against his wrist until Puck looked over at him. When their eyes met Kurt shook his head, barely moving but he hoped that Puck got the message anyway. For a second Puck frowned at him, then he shrugged and relaxed just a little under Kurt’s hand. He pulled his fingers away from Puck’s wrist and looked away, and when he found his father frowning at him Kurt’s cheeks flushed.

Then Mr. Schuester cleared his throat and leaned forward in his chair, and when his dad looked away Kurt swallowed and looked at Schue.

“Look, I understand why you’re upset, Mr. Hummel. The kids and I have been through a lot together over the past few years, and I thought I could trust them to keep themselves out of trouble. Obviously that was my mistake.”

“We didn’t get into any trouble,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes because honestly, they’d gotten _married_ , not arrested.

“This is not just about the question of your so-called marriage, Mr. Hummel,” Figgins said, and Kurt felt the delicate hairs on the back of his neck bristle at the words. “There is also the question of the three hundred dollar bill from the minibar in Mr. Puckerman’s room.”

“Wait a second, you got _drunk_ and then got married?” his father practically roared, and Kurt was so busy scowling at him that he nearly missed the soft _I knew it_ from Mrs. Puckerman’s side of the office.

“Noah wasn’t drinking,” Kurt said, and okay, that probably didn’t make it any better in his father’s opinion, but he wasn’t going to have Puck’s mother thinking that her son had gotten drunk and married him by mistake or something. “I might have had a few cocktails while we were out, but neither of us touched the minibar.”

“That’s true,” Mr. Schuester said with an apologetic glance in Carole’s direction. “Finn confessed that it was the rest of the boys who got into the minibar. Kurt and Puck were apparently already...discussing wedding plans by then.”

“Look,” Kurt’s father said, glancing at Kurt again before he turned back to Figgins, “the point is Schuester let them run wild in a strange city without supervision, and he let them drink on a school trip. He didn’t even have the damn sense to have the minibar cleared out before they checked in. What the hell was he doing all weekend, hitting the tables?”

“Hey, Will didn’t ignore the kids all weekend,” Coach Beiste said from behind them. “He gave them some freedom on one night, and they proved they couldn’t handle it.”

“I fail to see why everyone’s so upset about this.”

Kurt looked around at all of them, and when his gaze fell on Mrs. Puckerman and her red-rimmed eyes he almost closed his mouth again. But he hadn’t married her, and if Puck meant it when he said that he wanted to be with Kurt, then it shouldn’t matter that his mother clearly had a problem with it.

“No one was hurt or arrested, and we didn’t embarrass the school in any way. There was a little drinking, yes. But we’re together because we _want_ to be together. Regardless of Mr. Schuester’s failure as a chaperone, that hasn’t changed.”

“Yes, yes, we are aware of your opinion, Mr. Hummel,” Figgins said, hand waving in front of him as though he didn’t really _care_ about Kurt’s opinion. “Thankfully this wedding business is not legally binding, or your parents would likely have grounds for a lawsuit. As it is, we must decide on the best course of action regarding William’s lack of leadership during your trip.”

“So if Finn had come home married to Rachel there would be something to worry about? Just because the state of Ohio doesn’t recognize us as human beings with the same basic rights as everyone else doesn’t make this any less real.”

Kurt’s gaze shifted to his father and Carole; they were both watching him, his father with a vaguely surprised expression on his face, and Carole with watery eyes and that pinched smile he hadn’t seen since she married his dad. He knew it meant she was trying not to cry, but as soon as he looked at her she lost the battle.

“Honey,” Carole said, and Kurt was still getting to know her, but he knew enough to see that she was just a few seconds from dragging him into an embarrassing hug, and then forcing him down onto the couch between her and his father. But before she could get her hands on him Mrs. Puckerman stood up, purse clutched in one hand and the other closing around Puck’s arm.

“This isn’t getting anyone anywhere,” she said without looking back at Figgins. “Noah, go get in the car.”

“Ma, at least let me say goodbye,” Puck said, but he didn’t fight her when she herded him toward the door. Kurt turned to watch them go, and when Puck looked at him, he tried to smile. He wasn’t all that sure how successful he’d been, because Puck didn’t smile back. Then again, he looked sort of terrified, and Kurt couldn’t really blame him when he saw the look on Mrs. Puckerman’s face.

Even Coach Beiste moved out of their way, and a few seconds later they were gone, out of Figgins’ office and into the hallway to disappear in the direction of the parking lot. Kurt watched him go, his heart sinking as he wondered just what Puck was about to go through. He’d said his mother would probably yell at him for screwing up his life again, and Kurt didn’t think that was fair, because being with Kurt didn’t mean Puck’s life was over. It didn’t even have to change all that much, and if anyone would give them a chance they might discover that he and Puck were actually good together.

Then again, they hadn’t been together all that long, and Kurt was starting to wonder if they were ever going to get a chance to discover whether they were good together or not. He felt his bottom lip start to tremble, then a pair of arms slid around his shoulders and he let himself lean into Carole’s embrace.

“Oh, honey,” she said, her hand pushing his hair off his forehead and for once he didn’t even think about his carefully constructed style.

He let her fuss over him for a moment or two, then he pulled himself together and blinked back the tears that were threatening to form. He cleared his throat and eased out of Carole’s grip, then he crossed his arms over his chest and turned to face his father.

“Dad, I know you’re upset with me, but there’s no point dragging Mr. Schuester into it. He’s right; he should have been able to trust us, and we let him down. Not because of the wedding,” Kurt said, because there was no way he was going to let them call that a mistake, “but we knew better than to drink, especially the night before the competition.

“We all just got a little carried away by the excitement. We’ll pay the school back for the minibar bill, and I’m sure from now on Mr. Schuester will make sure the hotel clears the alcohol out of the rooms before they let teenagers check in. Frankly they should have done that without being asked.”

When he finished he glanced in Mr. Schuester’s direction, and when he found Schue smiling at him Kurt did his best to smile back. Schue was a failure as a chaperone, that much they could all agree on, but Kurt knew he had all their best interests at heart. The fact that he hadn’t yelled at them about getting married on school time was actually pretty nice, and the fact that he’d tried to keep Kurt’s father from finding out he’d technically been drunk when he got married was even nicer.

“Mr. Hummel, I assure you this is not the end of the discussion,” Figgins said, standing up as he addressed Kurt’s father, and Kurt assumed that meant they were being dismissed. Which was fine with him, because he still didn’t see the point of any of this.

He watched his father shake hands with Figgins, then shoot a look at Schue that wiped the smile right off Schue’s face. A second later Carole was putting an arm around him and steering him past Coach Beiste and out of the office, his father a few steps behind.

Once they were in the deserted hallway his father stopped, and when Kurt looked back at him he was frowning as though he was trying to make sense of something. “So this thing with you and Noah…it’s for real?”

“I told you that last night, Dad,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes at the vaguely dumbstruck look on his father’s face.

“Yeah, but you weren’t even dating. I mean, I always got the impression you didn’t even like the kid.”

Kurt shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t being held in a vice grip by Carole’s hand. “That was before I got to know him.”

“I just wish we hadn’t missed the wedding,” Carole said, a wistful note in her voice, and Kurt felt a stab of guilt when he remembered what Coach Beiste had said about their parents missing the chance to see their sons get married.

“There are pictures,” Kurt answered, looking away from his father to smile at her. “Noah still has them, but I’ll ask him to bring them over when he can.”

“Maybe he can come for dinner tomorrow night,” Carole said, steering Kurt toward the parking lot again, and his father didn’t have any choice but to follow. “I’ll call his mother and talk to her. I’m sure it’ll be fine just as soon as she gets used to the idea.”

Kurt wasn’t so sure, but Carole had known Puck’s mother a lot longer than Kurt had, so he hoped that maybe she knew something he didn’t.

~

Puck let his mother drag him all the way out to the parking lot, protesting the entire way about just leaving Kurt and Mr. Schue hanging out to dry like that. She didn’t say a word all the way to the car, which turned out to be even worse than her yelling at him about what a screw-up he was. At least the yelling he was used to; the silent treatment he had no clue how to handle.

When they reached her Volvo she got behind the wheel, and Puck went around to the passenger side. He considered not getting in, maybe making a break for it and buying himself a little more time before he was forced to deal with her. But he knew if he did it she’d just be more pissed when he did finally face her, so he took a deep breath and got in the car.

She had her head down on the steering wheel, shoulders kind of shaking and Puck was pretty sure she was crying again. It was the second time he’d had to deal with crying in two days, and he was pretty sure what worked with Kurt wasn’t going to work with his mother. If he tried to put an arm around her or something she’d probably just hit him, and maybe _then_ she’d start yelling.

Which wasn’t even fair, because he hadn’t gotten in trouble in forever, and it wasn’t even his fault she’d gotten called down to the school today. Yeah, it was probably a lousy way to find out he was married to Kurt now, but he didn’t think it was anything to cry about.

“Listen, Ma…”

At the sound of his voice she looked up, eyes red and puffy and she didn’t look anywhere near as good as Kurt did when he cried. "I really thought you were doing better, Noah. You were going to class, you haven’t gotten hauled home by the cops or thrown out of school. You’re just a few weeks from graduation, and by some miracle you’re actually going to graduate. But now this?”

“I’m not even in trouble,” Puck said, though it didn’t really feel that way from where he was sitting. “You heard Figgins. We didn’t do anything wrong, Schue did. I wasn’t even drinking.”

“You got _married_ , Noah. Do you know how much harder life gets when you’re married?”

“I thought it was supposed to be easier. Somebody to share your problems with and all that.”

“That’s the theory,” she said, but he knew when a rant about his worthless father was coming on, and the way she said it told him he was about two seconds away from just that. “But you’ve proven you don’t know what the hell you’re doing. You’ve already become a father, and I thought maybe that would finally get you to take some responsibility, but then you tell me that my only grandchild is going to be raised by total strangers, and let’s not even pretend they’re Jewish. And now you’ve gone and married a man and I’ll never get a chance to be a grandmother.”

For a second Puck just watched her sniffling, tears smearing her makeup and making her look sort of crazy. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but there was no one around to see them both looking like they’d lost it.

“ _That’s_ what you’re so worked up about? You’re worried I’m never going to have any more kids?”

She sniffed again and ran her hands under her eyes, smearing tears and mascara and probably some snot, too, and Puck was glad he hadn’t opted to go in for a hug after all.

“Ma, just because Kurt’s a guy doesn’t mean we couldn’t have kids.”

When she fixed him with the look that told him she thought he was kind of an idiot, he rolled his eyes, because it wasn’t like he thought he could knock Kurt up.

“Anyway, you’ve still got Sarah. She’s probably good for a couple grandkids.”

That got him another look, but she didn’t burst into tears again. Instead she dug in her purse until she came up with a tissue, then she blew her nose and Puck did his best not to look grossed out.

“She’ll wait until after college if she knows what’s good for her. I don’t think I can take much more of this.” His mother paused, just looking at him for a beat or two before she let out a sigh. “This boy…”

“Kurt.”

“Fine. This _Kurt_. You’re not just playing some joke on him? You didn’t just get him drunk enough to marry you so you and your friends could embarrass him?”

“No, Ma,” Puck said, but he didn’t bother rolling his eyes, because the truth was, he couldn’t blame her for thinking he’d be capable of something like that. A few years ago he might even have thought it was funny, but a few years ago he didn’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about much of anything. “I married him because I wanted to. Kurt’s awesome, mom. You’re going to love him once you get to know him.”

She let out a deep breath, hands gripping the steering wheel for a second like maybe she hadn’t been expecting him to mean it. Then she nodded and glanced over at him, and this time she almost smiled.

“Do _you_ love him?”

He shrugged, because he thought that was kind of obvious, considering, but if she wanted to hear him say it, he would. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s bad enough you got Finn’s girlfriend pregnant, the last thing I need is another reason for Carole to hate me.”

“Mrs. H doesn’t hate you, Ma. She doesn’t even hate me,” Puck said, and that much, at least, he was sure of. The truth was that Finn’s mom had been a lot cooler to him than she really had a reason to be, and he’d never really appreciated it until right now.

Her only answer was a nod, then she reached for her keys and started the car. She pulled out of the parking space and pointed the car toward home, and when they passed Kurt’s Navigator Puck turned to look at her again.

“So you’re cool with me and Kurt? I mean, with him being a dude.”

“I’m not happy about you getting married at eighteen,” she answered, and he figured that was as close as he was going to get to a ‘yes’. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that he’s Jewish.”

When she looked over at him Puck just shrugged and didn’t break the news that Kurt didn’t believe in God at all. Being an Atheist was probably on the same level as being a Christian in her book anyway, so he figured he’d give her a chance to get to know Kurt before he gave her a reason not to like him.

“Marriage isn’t a joke, Noah. You can’t just take it back when you get tired of it.”

He thought about pointing out that that’s pretty much what his dad did, but he knew it would just make her cry again. Besides, he wasn’t his father, and he wasn’t planning to ditch Kurt when things got tough. “I know, Ma. We’re gonna make it work.”

She didn’t say anything, but when she looked at him again he could tell she didn’t really believe him. Maybe it was because they were kind of young, or maybe it was because she wasn’t used to seeing him take stuff seriously. But he meant it, and so did Kurt, and if they had to prove everybody wrong about them, they would.


	12. Chapter 12

It took a little while to get Carole to stop fussing over him long enough for Kurt to escape to his room. His father hadn’t said much since they got home, but he’d patted Kurt on the shoulder once, and he hadn’t put up a fight when Carole started planning what sounded like an elaborate dinner, so Kurt assumed that meant he was getting used to the idea that Kurt was married now.

He was grateful that his father was coming around, but it was hard to enjoy the peace in his own house when he was busy worrying about what was going on at Puck’s place.

As soon as he could he retreated to his bedroom, setting his bag down on his desk chair and pulling his phone out before he sat down on the edge of his bed. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Puck’s number, finger hovering over the ‘send’ button before he changed his mind and pressed ‘end’ instead. He wanted to call, just to hear Puck’s voice and know that everything was okay, but he didn’t want to make things worse by calling in the middle of a shouting match.

Then again, he was supposed to be supporting Puck now, the same way Carole and his dad supported each other. So really he should be there for the shouting, and knowing that he couldn’t be was more than a little frustrating.

But the most frustrating part of all was the fact that nearly everything about both their lives had changed today, and they hadn’t even had the chance to talk about it. During the course of one lunch period they’d talked about their plans for the future and decided to move in together. Puck had even agreed to leave Lima for Kurt, and maybe his mother would have something to say about that, too, when she found out, but at least Kurt was sure Puck had meant it when he said it.

He flipped his phone open, then closed it again, then flipped it back open and opened a new text. It wasn’t the same as hearing Puck’s voice, but it wasn’t as intrusive as a phone call, and if his timing was good then maybe he’d at least get to talk to Puck again before tomorrow.

His fingers flew across the keys, typing just three words before he hit send: _Can you talk?_

He told himself not to expect an answer right away, so the sound of his phone ringing less than a minute later made his heart skip a beat. He glanced at the screen, his heart starting back up in double time when he saw Puck’s name on the display.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Puck said, his voice low in Kurt’s ear, and it occurred to Kurt that it was the first time they’d ever spoken on the phone. “Sorry about bailing on you. My mom was kind of freaking out.”

“It’s fine, you really didn’t miss much,” Kurt answered. “Is your mom…I mean, is she still upset?”

“Nah, she’s good now. I think she’s making my sister sit through _Fiddler On the Roof_ for like the hundredth time. It’s kind of her go-to movie when she’s stressed out.”

“So she’s okay with this?”

“What, with us getting hitched? She’s not in love with the idea or anything, but she’ll deal.”

“Actually, I meant the part where you married a boy,” Kurt said, and he was glad Puck couldn’t see the way his cheeks were burning.

“I think she’s more worked up that you’re not a Jew, babe,” Puck answered, laughter clear in his voice and Kurt was glad one of them was enjoying this.

“Well I suppose, given the alternative, I’d just as soon have her hate me for my religious views.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, but Puck didn’t sound annoyed so much as amused. “She’s not gonna hate you, Kurt. Once she gets to know you she’ll probably like you more than she likes me.”

He could hear the wistfulness in Puck’s voice, and his heart clenched at the sound. “Noah, you know how much your mother loves you, right? She was upset today, but it was clear how much she cared.”

“I guess.” For a second there was silence, then Puck cleared his throat and Kurt got the message that he was done talking about his mother. “So is your dad on the warpath now that he knows about the booze, or do you think you can still get out tonight?”

Kurt glanced toward his bedroom door, wondering just how upset his father would be if he announced he was going out with Puck instead of staying home for a family dinner. But there was no question of which he’d rather do, so he didn’t even hesitate before he answered.

“I can make it. When should I pick you up?”

“How fast can you get here?” Puck asked, and the promise in his voice sent a shiver down Kurt’s spine.

In the end Kurt made it in just under an hour, including time for a shower and a brief detour to inform his father that he was going out with Puck, and yes, he was aware that it was a school night. His dad frowned and glanced at the clock as though it wasn’t still early -- almost too early to be going to dinner, but Kurt was fairly sure they could find some way to pass the time -- and made him promise to be home by 11:00.

To his credit, Kurt didn’t roll his eyes and point out that he was going out with his _husband_ , and they shouldn’t even have to spend the night apart. He knew that was a battle he couldn’t win, so instead of arguing and getting himself grounded he just nodded and let Carole kiss him again before he made his escape.

When he pulled up in front of Puck’s house he expected Puck to be waiting for him, to climb into his car practically before Kurt rolled to a complete stop. He expected a thorough kiss hello and maybe a complaint about Kurt taking his sweet time before Puck finally told him where they were going, and he’d sort of been looking forward to all of that.

But when he parked in front of Puck’s house there was no sign of him, and Kurt frowned and shut off the engine before he climbed out of the Navigator and made his way up the walk. He’d never actually been inside Puck’s house before, which was a little strange, considering, but everything about their relationship was a little strange.

Kurt reached for the doorbell, but before he could push the button the door opened and he found himself face to face with Puck.

“Change of plans.”

“Oh?” Kurt said, and he didn’t intend to sound quite so nervous, but it could hardly be helped when Puck was looking a little bit like someone had died.

“Yeah, I had our whole date planned, but then Mrs. H called to talk to my mom about letting me come over for dinner tomorrow, and my mom started freaking out about how I’m practically moving in with you already and she hasn’t even met you, and then she started cooking, and she only does that, like, twice a year, so there was no way I could tell her we’re bailing to go to Breadstix instead.”

Puck paused to take a breath, chewing on his bottom lip like maybe he was afraid Kurt was going to tell him the date was off. There was a part of Kurt that wanted to do exactly that, because it had already been a long day and all he really wanted was to get Puck alone so they could talk about what happened now -- what happened a month from now -- and by the way, was he serious about moving to Columbus to be with Kurt?

There was another, louder part of Kurt that wanted to skip the talking too, that wouldn’t mind at all if they skipped dinner and went somewhere no one would look for them and didn’t talk at all for awhile. It hadn’t even been two days since they woke up together, Puck’s skin warm and smooth against his and Puck’s mouth trailing kisses down his neck and whispering promises that Kurt was positive he had every intention of keeping.

But it felt as though it had been forever, and no amount of making out between classes could come close to the intensity of being alone and stripped completely bare with Puck -- _for_ Puck – with no one around to interrupt them. The thought of sitting through dinner with Puck’s mother when they could be spending their evening getting reacquainted sort of made Kurt want to cry, but he could see how important it was to Puck, and if they were going to spend tomorrow night suffering through a family dinner at Kurt’s house, he couldn’t really say no.

“Oh,” he said again, cheeks flushing at the sound of his own voice. “Well, if she’s going to all that trouble we don’t have much choice.”

“Kind of sucks, though,” Puck said, then he glanced over his shoulder to make sure his mother wasn’t lurking somewhere in the hallway before he stepped out of the house and pulled the door shut. A second later his arms were sliding around Kurt’s waist, and Kurt let himself be pulled forward into a slow, thorough kiss. “I’ve been thinking about getting into your pants all day, babe. Now I have to wait even longer.”

He brushed another kiss against the corner of Kurt’s mouth, hand working up under Kurt’s shirt and that was so not helping, because the last thing Kurt needed right before he formally met...well, his mother-in-law, technically, was the image of Puck methodically peeling him out of his clothes. He didn’t need the memory of Puck’s mouth or his hands on Kurt’s skin, not if he was hoping to survive dinner without humiliating himself.

It took some effort to extract himself from Puck’s grip, but finally Kurt pulled away, wiping at the corners of his mouth and blushing at the look in Puck’s eyes. “You can’t expect me to sit through dinner with your mother if you keep doing that.”

“Good point,” Puck said, but he was still looking at Kurt as though he _was_ dinner, and that so wasn’t helping. Then he reached for Kurt’s hand, thumb sliding over Kurt’s ring in what was starting to become a familiar gesture. Kurt felt the little tug at his heart that always came along with Puck touching him like that, and he smiled to himself and curled his fingers around Puck’s.

“You ready for this?” Puck asked, and Kurt pushed down a surge of panic and managed to nod.

He let Puck pull him into the house, down the hall and past a set of stairs. They passed the living room, where one of those loud, vapid shows aimed at preteens was playing. Kurt barely caught a glimpse of dark hair and a pair of big brown eyes peering at him over the back of a chair before he was being pulled into the kitchen, and when he saw the amount of food piled on the counters he wondered if Mrs. Puckerman had invited the entire neighborhood to dinner.

“Ma, what the hell?” Puck said as soon as he spotted the spread, eyes wide and Kurt assumed this wasn’t a normal amount of cooking, even for a special occasion.

“Watch your language,” his mother said in a voice that told Kurt she’d given up that battle years ago. Then she glanced over at them, and when she saw Kurt her own eyes went a little wide and her hands flew to her hair. “Noah, you could have told me we had company.”

“I told you Kurt was coming over like an hour ago,” Puck said, but it was obvious that wasn’t what she meant. Her hair frizzed in little curls around her temples from standing over the hot stove, and there were stains covering the front of her apron. She wiped her hands on her apron, then looked down at it and rolled her eyes.

“Come here and stir the gravy,” she said, waving a spoon in Puck’s direction that resulted in an even bigger mess straight down her front. If she noticed she didn’t seem to care; instead she rushed out of the kitchen, reaching behind her to untie the apron as she went.

Puck barely caught the spoon before she was gone, but he stuck it back in the pot and stirred the liquid inside. “I don’t get what the big deal is, it’s just gravy.”

“It’ll get lumps if you don’t keep stirring it,” Kurt answered.

“No it won’t, it comes out of the jar already smooth.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and nudged Puck out of the way, glancing in the pot long enough to see that if he didn’t take action soon there wouldn’t be any gravy. “This isn’t from a jar. I need a whisk. Do you know where your mother keeps hers?”

“A what?”

“A whisk. Little wire thing with a handle? It sort of looks like…” Kurt pulled out drawers as he spoke, finally coming up with what he wanted on the third try. “This.”

“That’s for cooking? It looks like a totally kinky sex toy.”

For a second Kurt just looked at him, then he shook his head and turned away. “I don’t even want to know what you’d try to do with this.”

He stuck the whisk in the pot and stirred in brisk, sure motions, watching the lumpy liquid smooth out and then take on a glossy finish. When he was satisfied that the gravy was completely smooth he stopped stirring, turning the heat all the way down before he looked at Puck again. When he found Puck watching him he blushed and glanced down at the front of his shirt, expecting to find a mess of gravy on his clothes. But his shirt was clean, and a quick inspection of his pants told him he hadn’t gotten anything on his crotch either, so he had no idea what Puck was smirking at.

“What?”

“You cook?”

“I’ll have you know that some of the best chefs in the world are men. There’s nothing effeminate at all about…”

“Babe, chill,” Puck said, then he reached out and tugged Kurt toward him. “I think it’s totally hot. I figured we’d be living on Ramen and takeout once we moved to Columbus. What else can you do that you’re not telling me?”

Kurt considered the question for a moment, head tilted to the side, and he hadn’t meant for it to be an invitation, but apparently Puck took it as one, because his mouth landed on Kurt’s neck.

“I can fix your carburetor. I can change your oil, your brake pads, rebuild your engine. Pretty much if it’s got four or more cylinders, I can keep it on the road.”

“Really?” Puck pulled back to stare at him, and when Kurt just nodded Puck groaned and slid an arm around his waist. “Fuck, babe, that’s even hotter than cooking. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you during dinner when I’m busy thinking about what a badass you are?”

Kurt opened his mouth to suggest that maybe Puck could think about his mother sitting right in the next chair, but before he got the words out Mrs. Puckerman walked back into the kitchen. She was still fussing with her hair, but it was a little less frizzy, and she’d changed out of the apron and clothes she’d been wearing into a fresh shirt and a pair of slacks. Polyester, from the looks of them, and Kurt was already imagining getting his hands on her wardrobe and giving her the same kind of makeover he’d given Carole.

As soon as she spotted them pressed together in front of the stove she stopped, and Kurt blushed and tugged himself out of Puck’s grip. She pressed her lips together and drew her shoulders back, not quite looking at either of them as she headed for the stove and her gravy.

“This is perfect,” she said, surprise clear in her voice as she moved the whisk around in the pan as though she was hunting for stray lumps.

“Kurt did it,” Puck said. When she looked at him he grinned, then glanced over at Kurt. “Good thing he can cook, huh? Now you don’t have to worry about me starving to death when I move out.”

He was too busy grinning at Kurt to catch is mother’s expression, but Kurt didn’t miss it. He saw the flash of surprise in her eyes, then her lips pressed together hard for the second time, and Kurt felt his stomach drop. Surely she couldn’t expect Puck to stay at home forever; they were almost done with school now, after all, and it was time for them to grow up and start making their own decisions.

But Puck hadn’t even had a plan for life after high school until today, and that meant his mother probably hadn’t had time to prepare herself for the idea of him leaving. So essentially Kurt was taking her son away from her, and she didn’t even know it yet.

“Noah, go tell your sister dinner’s ready,” Mrs. Puckerman said. “And don’t let her leave the TV blaring.”

She turned away from them, and when Kurt glanced at Puck he just shrugged and headed for the living room. For a few moments Kurt just stood near the sink and watched her pouring gravy into a delicate-looking gravy boat. It was the kind most people saved for company, and he knew that meant she was trying to make a good impression. On _him_ , and even though it was for Puck’s sake, it was still sort of nice.

“Can I do anything?”

At the sound of his voice she flinched and looked up, and just for a second she looked a little like she had in Figgins’ office. Then she shook her head and forced a tight-lipped smile. “Why don’t you go with Noah. He’ll show you to the dining room.”

Kurt nodded and followed Puck out of the kitchen, following the sounds of voices down the hall to the living room. When he got there he found Puck dragging a furious-looking tween off the couch. Hannah Montana was carrying on about something in the background as Puck’s sister shrieked at him to let go of her, but when she caught sight of Kurt she froze.

Puck frowned and followed her gaze until he spotted Kurt, then he rolled his eyes and let go of his sister. He reached for the remote and shut off the TV before Miley had a chance to start singing, at least, and Kurt thanked the universe for small favors as he stared back at the little girl currently giving him the eye.

“Is that your boyfriend?” she asked, glancing at her brother for confirmation.

“Nope. I married him, that makes him my husband,” Puck said, then he put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her less than gently toward the dining room. “Now get moving before Ma throws a fit.”

“Boys can’t marry boys,” she said, but she let him herd her toward the dining room.

“Says who?” Puck rolled his eyes at the back of her head, then he looked back at Kurt. “This is my sister Sarah. She’s a total pain in the ass.”

“I’m telling Mom,” Sarah said, proving Puck’s point, and Kurt smiled when Puck scowled at her.

“Like she hasn’t figured it out already.”

By the time they actually reached the dining room there was a roast big enough to feed a family of eight sitting in the center of the table, along with at least four different vegetables, a pan of herbed potatoes, and some type of rolls that she couldn’t possibly have had time to make from scratch. It was more food than Kurt had ever seen in one sitting, and he couldn’t help thinking that it was a shame his father wasn’t here to appreciate it.

He took a seat next to Puck as Mrs. Puckerman appeared carrying the gravy boat, and when Puck reached for his hand Kurt almost pulled it back until he realized that they were all holding hands. Kurt swallowed a sigh and kept his head down during the prayer, most of which was in a language he didn’t understand anyway. When they were done he shot a glance at Puck, but all he got was a vague shrug of Puck’s shoulders and a return glance that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Kurt kept his mouth shut and took the bowl of roasted vegetables Puck passed him, then he took the smallest slice of roast he could find. He was wondering how he could get out of sampling everything Mrs. Puckerman had put on the table when she cleared her throat and looked at them, and when she started talking Kurt forgot all about the food.

“So you’re planning to move in together?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, as though it should be obvious. And it should, Kurt supposed, but he could tell just by looking at Puck’s mother that it wasn’t. “Not until after graduation. We haven’t really worked out the details yet. Kurt’s got college in the fall, but I figure we’ll spend the summer saving our money so we don’t have to rent some dive when we get to Columbus.”

“Columbus,” Mrs. Puckerman repeated, and Kurt nearly choked on a carrot. “You’re going to move to Columbus, just like that.”

Puck shrugged, but he cast a glance at Kurt that said this wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. “Yeah, that’s where Kurt’s going to school. I figured I’d get a job when we get down there and work for awhile until I figure things out.”

When she rolled her eyes she looked a lot like her son, and if Kurt wasn’t so busy bracing himself for the yelling he would have thought it was sort of cute. He hadn’t actually had this conversation with his father yet, but he had a feeling it wasn’t going to go that much better than this one had gone so far.

“Do you two even know how much all this is going to cost?”

Puck glanced over at Kurt, but it wasn’t like he’d done the math or anything, so he didn’t have an answer. He assumed it wouldn’t cost any more than paying for student housing, but there were two of them, and renting an apartment meant utility bills and groceries and that was a lot different than three meals a day in the dorm cafeteria.

“Relax, Ma,” Puck said, and Kurt could tell by the way she twitched that it was the wrong choice of words. “We’ll work it out.”

She rolled her eyes again, and Kurt couldn’t really blame her for thinking they were being naïve, now that he’d heard it said out loud. They hadn’t thought any of it through, and the fact that they’d only started talking about it today wasn’t much of an excuse.

“My father’s planning to help,” Kurt said, which wasn’t really much of a plan, but maybe it would make her feel a little better. “He was going to pay for my room and board at school, and this isn’t really any different. And I can work part time on campus to help make ends meet.”

“See, we’ve got it covered,” Puck said, grinning at her and Kurt barely held back a wince at her expression.

For a second he thought she might actually start shouting about how stupid they were both being, but then she glanced at him and Kurt saw the moment when she swallowed the words that had been on the tip of her tongue. Instead she shook her head and reached for the roasted vegetables, piling more on Sarah’s plate and ignoring her daughter’s protests.

“Well I hope you’re at least planning to keep kosher, Noah,” she said, casting a challenging look in Kurt’s direction, and he had to work hard not to snap at her about foolish traditions.

Puck was too busy inhaling his dinner to notice; he just shrugged, then he turned to flash a grin at Kurt. “Maybe I’ll learn how to cook kosher food while Kurt’s in school.”

Kurt didn’t bother pointing out that there really wasn’t much to cooking kosher food. The last thing he wanted to do was spark an argument about religion during his first dinner with his mother-in-law, especially when he already got the feeling that she didn’t think much of him.


	13. Chapter 13

“Your mother hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you, babe. She’s always like that.”

“Not really helping.”

Puck wanted to laugh, mostly because his mother really was always like that, so there was no point taking it personally. It was the first time anybody he hooked up with had ever cared what his mother thought, though, and he figured he shouldn’t laugh in Kurt’s face when he looked kind of freaked out. He’d been looking freaked out since they left his house and got in Kurt’s car, but Puck figured he’d chill once they finally got some time alone together.

It hadn’t even taken him any convincing to get Kurt in the back seat of the Navigator -- the one without the console in the center cockblocking him -- so he figured Kurt just needed a little Puckzilla action to help him relax. Except he’d been, like, _suctioned_ to Puck’s chest since they climbed in the back, and not in the ‘can’t get your clothes off fast enough’ way. Mostly he was just holding on, face pressed against Puck’s shoulder and mumbling into his shirt and it was pretty fucking hard to figure out what he was saying when his voice was all muffled by Puck’s clothes.

But it felt kind of nice, all the same, having Kurt pressed against him and knowing they weren’t going to get interrupted by anybody’s family, but still taking their time. He liked making out with Kurt, liked fucking him even more, but he kind of liked just hanging out with him too, so he didn’t really mind waiting until Kurt got over his panic attack about Puck’s mother.

Dinner hadn’t even gone that bad; there wasn’t any yelling, for one thing, and his mother didn’t accuse him once of trying to ruin his life just to make her suffer. He still didn’t know what she was supposed to be suffering _for_ , but he knew better than to ask.

And yeah, maybe she’d gotten a little uptight when he broke the news that he was moving out, but it wasn’t like she expected him to hang around forever. She didn’t even _want_ him to; half their fights when he was still getting in trouble on a regular basis had ended in her shouting through his bedroom door about what she was going to do with his room as soon as he moved out.

So now she could have her shrine to great Jews of history or whatever, and she’d have one less mouth to feed. It was win/win from where he was sitting, and as soon as she got used to the idea she’d be fine.

He ran a hand up Kurt’s back and into his hair, just kind of petting him until Kurt sniffed and pulled back to look at him. “She’s right, you know.”

“About what?” Puck asked, more because he knew Kurt expected him to than because he actually cared what his mom thought.

“We don’t know what we’re doing.” Kurt’s fingers ran up and down the buttons on the front of Puck’s shirt, slow and kind of distracted, like he didn’t even know he was doing it. “It’s easy to say we’re just going to move in together and somehow magically make everything work, but we don’t know how much it’s going to cost. You’re talking about uprooting your entire life for me. It feels selfish to ask you to do that.”

“Not for you, babe,” Puck said, his hand leaving Kurt’s hair to catch the one that was still moving up and down his chest. “For _us_.”

For a second Kurt just looked at him, eyes wide and his face kind of flushed and Puck was about to ask him what the problem was when Kurt leaned in and pressed their lips together. Kurt’s left hand was still pressed against his chest, and it had been awhile, so he ran his thumb over Kurt’s ring, and when Kurt sighed against his lips Puck took the in.

His free hand pushed up under Kurt’s shirt to flatten against his back, hot skin pressed against his fingers and it felt good, but he wanted a whole lot more of it. He let go of Kurt’s hand to push his other hand under Kurt’s shirt, inching the fabric up past his stomach. When Kurt realized what he was doing he pulled back, but instead of putting the brakes on and bringing up Puck’s mother again, he reached for the bottom of his shirt and tugged it over his head.

Kurt’s chest was red and kind of splotchy, like maybe he was embarrassed about getting half-naked while Puck was still wearing all his clothes. And that was just dumb, because Kurt looked _good_ without his clothes on. Puck flattened his hands on Kurt’s stomach and ran them over bare skin, around his sides and then up, over his chest to press against the heat at his neck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting you out of your clothes all day,” he said, which was true, but he’d spent at least part of it wondering how to get Kurt’s shirt off, exactly, so he was glad Kurt changed before he came over. He’d learned a long time ago how to cope with buckles and snaps and weird, hidden clasps, but after spending the whole day making out with Kurt with no chance of taking it any further, he wasn’t sure he could be patient enough to get any complicated clothes off without doing damage.

Puck’s own shirt had way too many buttons all of a sudden, but Kurt’s fingers were already working them open one by one, sliding each one free like he was some kind of expert. He probably counted as an expert, at least when it came to clothes, and Puck grinned at the thought and leaned back against the seat to let Kurt undress him.

“What are you studying in college, anyway?”

“Fashion merchandising,” Kurt said, sparing a quick glance up at him before he went back to staring down Puck’s buttons like he thought they might start talking back. “My ultimate goal is to become a buyer for a high-end department store like Saks or Bloomingdales. Then I’d be traveling all over the world for fashion shows, rubbing elbows with the best designers.”

“Huh,” Puck said as Kurt finally got the last button undone and pushed Puck’s shirt open, hands sliding up his chest and then back down again.

“What?” Kurt asked, his hands pausing on Puck’s shoulders where they’d been working his shirt down his arms.

“I was just wondering,” Puck said, sitting up far enough to pull his shirt off and dropping it on the floor of the car before he leaned back against the seat and pulled Kurt close again. He hooked a finger through one of Kurt’s belt loops and tugged until he got the message and swung a leg over Puck’s lap, knees planted on either side of Puck’s thighs. Puck gripped Kurt’s hips and dragged him even closer, thrusting up to grind their dicks together until Kurt let out a breathy little moan. “How much do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Gone…where?” Kurt asked, voice kind of broken already and Puck grinned and leaned up to mouth his way along Kurt’s neck.

“On your buying trips or whatever. Fashion shows and stuff.”

“Oh.” Kurt’s hands were on his shoulders, fingers digging into his skin hard enough to hurt when Puck thrust up against him again. Then Kurt relaxed his grip, sliding one hand up the back of Puck’s neck and over his scalp. “I’m not sure. A week here and there, I suppose. Why?”

Puck shrugged, then he let go of Kurt’s hips to reach for the button at the top of his pants. “I just want to know how much time I’m gonna spend missing you once you’re flying all over the world looking at clothes.”

“But that’s years from now. I have four years of college ahead of me, then internships, and even if my career hits the fast track, I’m still several years away from being invited to any foreign fashion weeks, let alone L.A. or New York.”

“Yeah, but we’ll still be married whenever you hit the big time, and I’ll still be the one stuck at home with nothing for company but my right hand while you’re staring at hot models for a living.”

He demonstrated by sliding Kurt’s zipper down and pushing his right hand past Kurt’s underwear to curve around his dick. The angle was a little weird, but it was worth it just to watch Kurt’s eyelids flutter and his cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red. Puck leaned in to lick a hot stripe up the side of Kurt’s neck, then he closed his teeth around Kurt’s earlobe and tugged.

Kurt gasped, then his hand left the back of Puck’s head to curve around his cheek, and Puck let Kurt turn his face up until they were eye to eye. For a second Kurt just looked, pupils blown wide and Puck could tell how turned on he was, but there was something else there too, like maybe he’d never really stopped to consider that getting married meant they’d still be together when Kurt finished college and started working on taking the fashion world by storm.

Then Kurt laughed, and that was kind of a weird reaction when Puck’s hand was in his pants, but the sound was higher than usual and kind of nervous, like maybe he was just trying to keep it together. “I can honestly say I never expected to be the one to marry my high school boyfriend. For a long time I didn’t expect to _have_ a high school boyfriend.”

“I thought you went out with that midget from your gay school last year.”

He expected Kurt to frown, maybe bitch at him about not calling people names or whatever, but instead he just let out another breathy little laugh. “I did, for awhile.”

“So what happened there?” Puck asked, and maybe it was a weird time for this conversation, but he was pretty sure Kurt knew everything about where Puck had been, or at least what was worth knowing, so he figured they might as well get on the same page. “I already know you never fucked him, I just don’t get why he passed up the chance to get with somebody as hot as you. He’s not secretly straight, is he?”

The whole time he was talking his thumb was moving on the tip of Kurt’s cock, and he was pretty sure Kurt hadn’t even noticed the way he was rocking his hips up into Puck’s hand like he just couldn’t help himself. It was totally hot, and Puck was halfway to saying ‘fuck it’ to the entire conversation and getting Kurt’s pants off for real when Kurt shrugged and turned a weird shade of red and buried his face in Puck’s neck.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled against Puck’s shoulder, the words easier to make out without his shirt in the way, but the feeling of Kurt’s voice vibrating against his skin was kind of distracting.

“What’s complicated? You’re totally hot. He’d have to be crazy not to want to fuck you.”

Kurt didn’t answer, maybe because he was too busy pressing kisses to the side of Puck’s neck. And that was cool, because they had the rest of their lives to talk about exes and all the weird head games they played. But they had each other now, and that meant they never had to put up with that shit again.

Puck grinned as Kurt found his mouth again, pressing their lips together and pushing his tongue past Puck’s teeth. He was breathing hard through his nose, hips pushing up into Puck’s hand and making these little noises in the back of his throat like he couldn’t get enough. That was hot too, and there was a part of Puck that wanted to let Kurt get himself off just like this, fucking himself in the circle of Puck’s fist.

But the angle was still weird and his hand was starting to cramp, and there was no reason to be uncomfortable when they had Kurt’s huge fucking car to work with. So he let go of Kurt’s dick, working his hand free from where it had gotten kind of trapped between them and lifting Kurt off his lap far enough to get his pants down his hips. He pushed until Kurt got with the program and stretched out on the seat, letting Puck tug his pants halfway down his thighs before he gave up and reached for the fly of his own jeans.

It wasn’t ideal or anything, but the only bedrooms they had to work with came with way too much family, and there was no way he was getting Kurt to relax enough for even a little fooling around with his dad or Puck’s mom right downstairs.

“We weren’t what you’d call sexually compatible,” Kurt said, right out of the blue and Puck had to think for a second before he remembered what they’d been talking about. Right, the midget and his failure to get with the fucking program and claim Kurt for his own before somebody hotter came along. Which meant he was brain damaged or something, but that was just fine with Puck. “I don’t think he was attracted to me so much as he liked the attention.”

Puck nodded, because he knew how that felt. It was pretty much exactly the reason things with him and Lauren went south; they tried to make it work, sure, but in the end they just didn’t really fit together. That was how Rachel put it when nobody else -- including Lauren -- would listen to Puck whine, and Puck still had a sneaking suspicion that what she really meant was that Lauren didn’t think he was a stud.

And he got it, so he got why Kurt was lying under him looking all sad and embarrassed all of a sudden, like maybe _he’d_ done something wrong. Like maybe the reason the midget never really wanted him was because there was something wrong with _Kurt_ , and that was just fucking stupid. It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to let any husband of his think that Puck would marry a dude who wasn’t seriously sexy. Which meant he was going to do this right, even if there wasn’t technically enough room for it.

Puck let go of his own fly and reached for Kurt’s pants again, dragging them the rest of the way down his legs. He stopped when he hit Kurt’s shoes, then he tugged those off and dropped them on the floor before he got Kurt out of his pants and underwear. It wasn’t totally dark outside yet, but Kurt’s windows had awesome tinting, and that made it hard to see the blush Puck was pretty sure went all the way down, so he pressed his hand to the center of Kurt’s chest and felt it instead.

Heat, like, _poured_ off Kurt’s skin, and Puck followed it with his palm until he reached Kurt’s dick again. He wrapped his hand around Kurt and stroked a couple times, dragging his thumb across the slick tip before he let go and lifted his thumb to Kurt’s mouth. Kurt’s eyes went a little wide, but he sucked Puck’s thumb between his teeth anyway, tongue sliding across the pad and tasting himself on Puck’s skin.

“There was something seriously wrong with that dude, babe,” Puck said, voice low and rough with want, “because you’re seriously fucking hot.”

He leaned in and pressed his mouth against the corner of Kurt’s, tongue sliding against his own thumb where it was still trapped between Kurt’s lips. Kurt made a little humming noise and opened his mouth, letting Puck’s thumb slide free so he could push his tongue past Kurt’s teeth.

Kurt moaned into the kiss, hands on Puck’s jeans to shove them down an inch or two. Then his fingers slid across the top of Puck’s ass, and there was no way there wasn’t something wrong with the midget when even Kurt’s _fingers_ could turn him on this much. He pulled back to look at Kurt, taking in flushed cheeks and wet red lips and the dark of Kurt’s blown pupils.

“He was a fucking moron,” Puck said, then he leaned in and pressed another kiss to the side of Kurt’s neck. “And I’m glad you didn’t fuck him, babe. He didn’t deserve you.”

Kurt’s hand landed on his face again, thumb stroking along his cheek bone and his lips parted just a little. “Noah, I...”

Then he stopped, and Puck’s heart pounded hard in his chest while he waited for Kurt to say it. He didn’t even know why he wanted to hear it so bad; maybe because the only other time Kurt had come close to saying it he’d been kind of wasted, or maybe it was just because nobody had ever said those words to him before. Quinn asked him once if he loved her, but she never said it back, and Puck knew it was because she’d never felt that way about him.

So yeah, he wanted to hear Kurt say it and know he meant it this time, that he wasn’t going to wake up and try to take it back. He wanted Kurt to say it first, and he didn’t know why that was important either, but he’d stopped trying to figure out this thing between them pretty much as soon as Kurt agreed to give it a try.

“Yeah?” he said when Kurt just kept looking at him, and when Kurt flushed and looked away Puck knew he wasn’t going to say it.

“I’m glad I never slept with him too,” Kurt said, then he looked back at Puck. “I’m glad you were my first.”

As soon as Kurt said it Puck remembered that first night in Vegas, when Kurt looked up at him with those same kiss-swollen lips and said, “If I sleep with you it'll be amazing, and you'll always be my first, which means I'll always be a little in love with you.”

It wasn’t the same as Kurt saying _I love you_ , but it was close enough to make Puck’s heart clench hard in his chest. Because he _was_ always going to be Kurt’s first, and if he had anything to say about it, nobody else was ever going to touch Kurt like this.

He let Kurt pull him down into another slow kiss, taking his time exploring Kurt’s mouth. His jeans were still mostly on, dick pressed hard against the fabric and when Kurt’s hands started working them down his hips again Puck broke the kiss to mouth his way along Kurt’s jaw. He lifted his hand to Kurt’s mouth, running two fingers along his bottom lip this time, and when Kurt made a little sighing noise Puck pushed his fingers inside.

“Get them wet,” he whispered near Kurt’s ear, smiling at the shiver that rolled through him at the sound of Puck’s voice.

Kurt did what he was told, sucking hard on Puck’s fingers and digging his tongue between them to push against the sensitive skin there. His dick twitched at the sensation, but Puck ignored it and pulled his fingers out of Kurt’s mouth. Kurt’s hand was curled around his wrist, and when Puck pulled his fingers free Kurt’s mouth made a wet popping sound that shouldn’t have been anywhere near as hot as it was. Puck let out a throaty laugh at the noise and pushed one of Kurt’s knees up toward his chest, then he reached between them again and pushed two wet fingers inside Kurt.

The sound that got him was somewhere between a whine and a moan. Kurt pressed down to bury Puck’s fingers even deeper, clenching around the intrusion for a second before he relaxed enough to let Puck ease them back out again. And he wished he’d thought to bring some lube, but he hadn’t really been planning on fucking Kurt in the back of his car. He hadn’t really come up with a plan at all, other than getting Kurt alone for as long as Kurt would let him.

He pushed his fingers back into tight heat, twisting them a little and watching Kurt bite his lip and grind down against him. He felt the drag of Kurt’s skin against his when he pulled out again, and now he _really_ wished he had some lube, because Kurt was willing right now, sure, but he was already frowning like maybe it hurt a little, and Puck didn’t want either of them regretting this tomorrow.

Instead of pushing his fingers back inside he shifted on the seat until he was kneeling between Kurt’s legs, pushing both Kurt’s knees toward his chest this time and leaning forward for a hard kiss. Kurt moaned against his mouth and slid an arm around his neck, coming up off the seat to kiss him back like his life depended on it.

Puck’s tongue slid past his lips, fucking his mouth the way he wanted to be fucking Kurt. It gave him an idea, though, and he pulled back to look down at Kurt, taking a second to admire the blush that started in the middle of his chest and went all the way to his hairline.

“You don’t have any lube stashed in here anywhere, do you?”

“No,” Kurt said, and he sounded so _sad_ about it that Puck couldn’t help grinning.

“No problem, babe, I’ve got a back-up plan.”

He pressed one last kiss to Kurt’s lips, then he leaned over and closed his mouth around Kurt’s dick. Kurt gasped and arched up into the sensation, pushing hard against the hand that was gripping his hip to hold him down against the seat. Puck laughed around his cock and pulled off until only the head rested against his tongue, then slid his lips as far down as they’d go again.

When Kurt was rocking up in a steady rhythm and moaning something that sounded an awful lot like Puck’s name he pulled off completely, pushing Kurt’s knees even further up toward his chest. He was practically bent in half, flushed even darker red now and arching up and Puck spared a moment of pity for that fucking moron Wayne or whatever his name was, because he’d never know what he’d passed up.

And he was never going to, Puck thought, a surge of something hot and dark flickering in his chest for a second before he bypassed Kurt’s balls to flatten his tongue against the taut skin just above Kurt’s hole. He heard Kurt gasp above him, hips sort of jerking up like maybe Kurt knew what he had in mind, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted it or not.

“Noah,” Kurt said, drawing out the name like he was begging for something and he didn’t know what it was. So the least Puck could do was show him, and then if he wanted to stop at least he’d know what he was turning down.

He slid his tongue lower, circling Kurt’s opening without pushing inside. Kurt gasped again and sort of twitched above him, the muscles in his legs shaking under Puck’s hands and even that was kind of hot.

“Just relax,” Puck said, then he pressed a kiss to the inside of Kurt’s thigh before he turned his attention back to Kurt’s perfect ass.

He’d never actually done this before, but he’d watched plenty of porn, and those guys all seemed to like it. So he figured Kurt would too, just as soon as he got over the weirdness factor. And it _was_ kind of weird, tonguing another guy’s ass, but it was worth a little weird when Kurt gasped and bucked up against him.

As it turned out, it didn’t take long for Kurt to get past the weirdness. It wasn’t long before he was moaning Puck’s name and rocking up again, anyway, one hand gripping the edge of the seat and the other closed hard around Puck’s where it was holding his legs open. His tongue slid in and out of Kurt a little easier as he opened up for Puck, and when Kurt rocked harder against him to get a little more, Puck wondered if he could get Kurt to come just from this.

Maybe if they weren’t in the back seat of his Navigator, and yeah, it was big, but there wasn’t really enough room for both of them and Puck knew his back was going to be sore tomorrow from leaning over for so long. They’d probably both be sore, and he was already trying to work out how they could sneak into the locker room to use the sauna Figgins had installed after they won the championship last year when Kurt’s grip on his hand tightened enough to hurt.

“Noah, I need...”

Puck lifted his head to look at Kurt, his dick throbbing against his jeans at the sight of Kurt flushed and wrecked and begging. “You wanna come, babe?”

Kurt nodded against the seat, but he didn’t look away, and Puck grinned and leaned up to kiss him. Part of him expected Kurt to turn his head, maybe for him to be grossed out at the thought of Puck’s tongue in his mouth after it had been in his ass. But he didn’t even flinch; he just leaned up to meet Puck, panting against his mouth when Puck pressed their lips together.

“How do you want it?” Puck asked, breathing the words against Kurt’s lips so he could feel Kurt shudder underneath him. “Do you want to come in my mouth, or do you want to get yourself off while I fuck you with my tongue some more?”

And he didn’t even know it was possible to blush that hard, but on Kurt it looked pretty good. For a second he thought he might not get an answer at all, and he was about to make the decision for them both when Kurt tugged on Puck’s hand where it was still pressed against his thigh. Puck let Kurt pull his hand away, and when Kurt lifted it to his mouth and sucked Puck’s fingers between his lips again Puck thought he might come before Kurt ever touched him.

He felt the suction of Kurt’s mouth like Kurt was sucking his dick instead of his fingers, and by the time Kurt released his hand Puck’s hips were moving against Kurt’s thigh. He groaned and leaned in to press another kiss to Kurt’s lips, breathing hard against Kurt’s mouth as he reached down and pushed his fingers past the loosened ring of muscle.

Kurt sighed and thrust up into Puck’s touch, bending his knee to give Puck more room to work, and when Kurt slid his leg over Puck’s shoulder he was almost sure he was going to come before he ever got his jeans off. He wasn’t even sure he’d mind, because Kurt was moaning his name and fucking himself on Puck’s fingers, his own hand reaching down to stroke himself hard.

Puck watched Kurt’s hand moving on his own dick, studying the pace he seemed to like best and the way he twisted his grip a little at the top of each stroke. His hips were moving even faster now, rocking between Puck’s fingers and his own fist, and a minute later he was arching up and clamping down hard on Puck’s fingers and coming.

He waited until Kurt relaxed again to ease his fingers free, then Puck slid them through the mess on Kurt’s stomach and pushed them back inside. Kurt moaned like he wasn’t sure how much he could take, and the truth was Puck wasn’t all that sure either. He kind of wanted to find out, though, so he kept working his fingers in and out of Kurt slow, mouth moving on his neck and murmuring against his skin until Kurt had to beg him to stop.

Puck pulled his fingers free and looked down at Kurt, grinning at the sight of Kurt boneless and well-fucked underneath him. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth, smiling against his skin when Kurt turned into him.

“Fuck, babe.”

“I’d like to, but we don’t have any condoms either,” Kurt said, and when he let out a breathless laugh Puck’s heart skipped a beat.

“We’re married, aren’t we supposed to be able to skip the condoms?”

“I’m not the one with a sordid sexual history,” Kurt answered, but his hands were on Puck’s jeans again, shoving them down until they reached the top of his thighs. “Unless you’ve already been tested since your last sexual partner.”

He’d never been tested at all, but he didn’t tell Kurt that. Instead he nodded and let Kurt push him more or less onto his back. “Whatever you want, babe.”

And the thing was, he meant it. It wasn’t just because of the way Kurt smiled at him right before he leaned over and closed his mouth around Puck’s cock. It wasn’t even because he was already doing that thing with his tongue that Puck liked so much, or the way he didn’t complain when Puck thrust up into his mouth before he caught himself and pressed his hips down against the seat.

He meant it when he said he’d do pretty much whatever Kurt wanted him to, because he wanted to make Kurt happy. He wanted Kurt to stop worrying so much about what Puck’s mom thought, or even what Mr. Hummel thought. He’d seen Kurt totally blissed out, and he wanted that, yeah, but he’d seen Kurt relaxed and happy too, on that second morning in Vegas when they woke up tangled together in the sheets.

He liked pretty much everything about Kurt, but he liked it most of all when Kurt was laughing at Puck’s dumb jokes and reaching out to touch Puck’s arm or his hip or his shoulder, just because it was there. He liked getting to see Kurt be himself, without all the layers of weird clothes and attitude. And yeah, he kind of liked the attitude too, but what he _loved_ were the parts of Kurt nobody else got to see.

Kurt’s tongue teased the head of his cock again and Puck moaned, hand sliding into Kurt’s hair and forcing his eyes open to watch his cock slide between Kurt’s lips. He felt the familiar tug of need in the base of his stomach, knew how close he was and he didn’t even try to hold out a little longer.

Maybe Kurt could tell already too, because a hand slid under him to cup his ass, lifting him half off the seat and kind of spreading his cheeks and Puck barely got out a surprised _fuck_ before he came on Kurt’s tongue.

When he came down enough to open his eyes Kurt was watching him, sort of propped up on one elbow and balanced on the edge of the seat and Puck had no idea how he was holding himself there. He pushed himself onto his side and slid an arm around Kurt’s waist, tugging him a little further onto the seat.

Kurt made a contented little humming noise and hooked his leg over Puck’s thigh, his foot sliding along Puck’s denim-covered calf and even _that_ felt amazing. Maybe later Puck would even remember to be embarrassed about how easy he was when it came to Kurt, but for now he was too busy breathing in the mingled scents of sweat and come and whatever shampoo Kurt probably spent way too much on.

“I missed you,” Kurt murmured against Puck’s shoulder, his skin hot against Puck’s and he could tell Kurt was blushing. Like maybe he was embarrassed to admit it, and Puck got why, because it was kind of a weird thing to say, considering they’d spent most of the day together. But Puck knew exactly what he meant, just like he knew they were both going to feel pretty much exactly the same way again tomorrow, and the day after that and over and over until they finally figured out a way to wake up in the same bed every morning.

“Me too,” he said, and when he felt Kurt smile against his skin he let out a shaky laugh. “We need a plan, babe. I don’t know if I can make it through the whole summer like this.”

Kurt nodded and pulled back far enough to look at him, and Puck didn’t bother fighting the urge to lean in and brush his lips against Kurt’s.

“You’re right, we’re going to have to come up with some kind of plan, especially if we want our parents to take us seriously.” As soon as he mentioned their parents Kurt remembered that they _had_ parents, and he glanced down at his watch and sighed. “I need to get home before my father has another meltdown.”

He pulled away and sat up, digging through the clothes on the floor of the car until he found what he was looking for. Puck flipped onto his back and dragged his jeans back up, but when Kurt tossed his shirt at him he didn’t get up. It wasn’t until Kurt was completely dressed and pulling his shoes on that he glanced back at Puck, but instead of frowning and bitching at him to get a move on, Kurt turned and reached for Puck’s hand.

“Noah, I know you don’t want to talk about your mother,” he said, which was kind of weird, considering, but also kind of true, so Puck just shrugged and let him talk. “But I think she’s more upset at the idea of you moving out than she’s letting on. Maybe if she knew that you haven’t been planning this for awhile and just not bothering to tell her, she’d feel a little less betrayed. She’s probably not going to like it any more than she does now, but at least she’ll know you haven’t been disregarding her feelings completely.”

“I keep telling you, she’s fine with it,” Puck said, but when Kurt frowned at him he sighed and sat up. “But if you’re gonna, like, lose sleep over it, I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said, giving Puck a pleased little smile and a peck on the cheek. “Now get dressed. I have to be home by 11:00.”

They pulled up outside Puck’s house at 10:45, which gave Puck five minutes to kiss Kurt goodnight. Kurt shoved him out of the car at 10:51, red-faced and bitching about having to break the laws of physics to get home on time. But he was smiling when Puck turned to grin at him one last time, so Puck figured he wasn’t really mad.

He let himself into the house, following the sound of the TV into the living room. His mom was curled up alone on the couch, one of those boring Woody Allen movies she liked so much playing. She looked up when Puck walked in, and even in the dim light from the TV he could tell she’d been crying again.

So maybe Kurt had a point after all; she did seem a little more worn down than usual, and if it was his fault the least he could do was try to get her to see that he was sorry for stressing her out.

“It’s late, Ma. What are you doing?”

“ _Annie Hall_ was on,” she said, like she didn’t have the DVD. “Have you been out with Kurt this whole time?”

“Yeah.” Puck sat down on the other end of the couch, watching Woody Allen try to hit on some chick at a party for a few seconds before he looked at his mother again. “Kurt said I should tell you that I just found out about Columbus today. So it’s not like I’ve been holding out on you.”

For a minute she didn’t answer; she just stared at the TV, watching the chick in guy’s clothes laugh in a way that always made Puck wonder if his ears were going to start bleeding. He was about to give up and go to bed when she glanced in his direction without really looking at him.

“He seems like a considerate young man.”

“He can be a real bitch when he wants,” Puck said, grinning at the thought, but when he caught the look on her face he remembered what Kurt said and stopped smiling. “Look, Ma, I know this is all kind of fast, but we’re gonna make it work. Honest.”

She sighed and looked at him for real this time, and just for a second he thought maybe Kurt was right when he said she cared whether or not he moved out. “You’re young, Noah. And I know you don’t want to hear it, but you’re a lot like your father. He never thought anything through either, and when it didn’t work out the way he planned, he just gave up.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Puck said, and he could hear the anger rising in his voice, but he didn’t try to dial it back. “Just because Dad bailed doesn’t mean I’m going to end up a loser like him. Kurt...”

“Kurt’s young too,” she said, but now she just sounded tired again.

“He thinks you hate him,” Puck told her. He glanced at the TV again, watching Woody Allen crash his car and rolling his eyes because seriously, who thought this was a good movie? “He thinks it’s because we’re both guys.”

She shrugged and looked away, and his heart sank when he realized Kurt was at least partly right. “It’s not going to make your life any easier.”

That much he already knew, mostly from watching Kurt stand up to him and twenty other guys like him at school every day for the past four years. Maybe even longer than that; Puck hadn’t been paying attention to him before they got to high school, but he figured even in junior high some of the serious closet cases like Karofsky might have already had Kurt in their targets. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to hide who he was, unless Puck counted that one time in sophomore year when he became a lesbian for a week.

He smiled at the memory and stood up, casting one last glance at the TV before he looked at his mother again. “Yeah, I know, Ma. It’s my life, though.”

She didn’t try to stop him on his way across the living room. He paused when he reached the doorway, but when he looked back she was staring at the TV like she hadn’t already seen the movie a hundred fucking times. Puck shook his head and left her to it, climbing the stairs to his room and closing the door to shut out the sound of the movie still playing below him.


	14. Chapter 14

Kurt slipped through the front door at 11:02, holding his breath while he turned the lock and set his keys on the table by the door. When his father didn’t appear in the foyer to yell at him for being two minutes late he let out a sigh, though whether it was relief or disappointment he couldn’t really say. He was just as happy to avoid another confrontation with his father, but it had been strangely difficult to leave Puck and drive back to his own house.

Knowing that Puck was going inside to face his mother alone made it even harder to leave, and now that he was home he wondered if he’d made the wrong choice. But they really didn’t have another choice, not unless they moved out on their own, and Kurt knew better than to think they could afford to do it while they were still in high school.

Even after graduation they really didn’t have any options; neither of them had the money to set up an apartment, and in a few months they’d be moving to Columbus anyway. The thought of Puck moving to Columbus with him sent a fresh wave of butterflies soaring through Kurt’s stomach, and he swallowed against them and made his way into the kitchen for a calming mug of warm milk before bed.

When he got there he found the light on and Carole standing in front of the stove, two mugs resting on the counter at her elbow while she stirred something in a saucepan. She looked up when Kurt stopped in the doorway, smiling at him before she turned her attention back to whatever she was cooking.

“I thought you might like a little nightcap,” she said, and when she dipped the tip of her pinkie into the saucepan Kurt realized what she was making. She turned off the burner and lifted the pan, pouring warm milk into both mugs before she set the pan back down on the stove and nodded toward the table. “Keep me company for a little while.”

Kurt thought about refusing, making some excuse to retreat to the sanctity of his room. But he’d come into the kitchen to make himself some warm milk in the first place, and since Carole seemed to know him well enough to beat him to the punch, it seemed rude to refuse. Instead he nodded and sat down at the table across from her, wrapping his hands around the mug she passed him and smiling.

“Am I really so predictable?”

Carole smiled again and picked up her own mug. “We all have our comforts. Nothing wrong with that. So did you have a nice time with Noah?”

Kurt blushed at the mention of Puck’s name, smiling into his mug for a second before he looked at her. “Once we escaped his mother’s clutches. I don’t think she’s thrilled with the idea of him marrying a man.”

Carole nodded as though that wasn’t really a surprise, and Kurt felt his heart sink. “She just needs some time to get used to the idea, hon. Her and your dad both.”

“To be honest, I thought it would be Dad waiting up for me tonight.”

“I’m working the late shift tomorrow; I convinced him to let me lay in wait for you so he could get some sleep.”

When Carole smiled Kurt laughed, his gaze shifting toward the doorway as though he was expecting his father to appear. He couldn’t possibly be sleeping, not while Kurt was out on his first official date with his husband. Then again, he wasn’t sure dinner with Puck’s family and then sex in the back of his car counted as a date.

“You know how much your father loves you, honey. He wants you to be happy, just like Noah’s mother wants him to be happy. But parents worry, and sometimes we worry about our kids making choices that are only going to make them happy for a little while. We can’t keep you from making choices you might regret later, but sometimes we can’t help trying.”

He knew she was right, just like he knew she meant well. But he was already tired of people telling him he was going to regret marrying Puck; maybe he had, for a few hours, but once he found out Puck actually meant it, he hadn’t regretted it for a second. Granted, they hadn’t even been together a week, but he couldn’t imagine regretting their relationship. Even if it didn’t work out – even if Puck changed his mind about being married to Kurt – he wouldn’t regret it. He couldn’t regret getting to know this side of Puck, not after all the time he’d wasted not really noticing Puck at all.

“I just wish he’d stop acting like my life is over,” Kurt said, frowning down at his mug again.

“It’s not that he thinks your life is over, sweetie. It’s that he wasn’t quite ready for it to start.” When he looked over at her Carole smiled, then she reached across the table and curled her hand around his. “You’re not a little boy anymore, but it’s hard for your dad to stop wanting to protect you. That’s been his job for a long time.”

“But I dated Blaine and he didn’t react this way.”

“There’s a difference between dating a boy and marrying him,” Carole said. She squeezed his hand, then she let go and wrapped her hands around her mug again.

“The second Finn told me that Quinn was pregnant, he stopped being my little boy. One moment I was looking at the baby I’d raised for sixteen years, and the next he was a man with a baby of his own on the way. It was hard to let go of the little boy I’d held onto for so long. And even when we found out Finn wasn’t the father, I knew I could never have my little boy back. That’s what your dad’s going through now.”

“But that’s absurd. A baby requires constant care and financial support, not to mention the loss of sleep. It’s a monumental commitment.”

“Some people see marriage as a pretty big commitment too.”

Kurt frowned when she smiled at him, but he couldn’t deny she had a point. “You know what I mean. It’s not the same. Noah and I are talking about sharing an apartment, not a child.”

“And it’s great that you boys are taking this seriously,” she said. “But marriage means a lot of compromise, and you and Noah are still getting to know each other. I think your dad’s just worried that you’ll be giving up some opportunities in order to stay together. He’s worried that if it doesn’t work out for you two, you might regret giving up those opportunities someday.”

He shook his head, staring down at his half-full mug. He didn’t even want to entertain the possibility of things not working out for them, but he thought about it all the time anyway. He wondered every time he found Puck waiting for him after class when he was going to come to his senses, when he was going to realize how wrong they were for each other.

But they’d felt pretty right in Kurt’s car not even an hour ago, and when Puck brushed a kiss against his lips and told him things were going to work out just fine, it was easy to believe it.

“I love him. That should count for something.”

Carole smiled at him, the watery one she’d turned on him in Figgins’ office earlier that day, and when she reached for his hand he let her squeeze it again. “It counts for a lot, honey.”

It took a few more minutes to make a graceful exit, but finally Kurt left her in the kitchen with a hug and a thank you for the warm milk and reassurance. He even meant it, but that didn’t stop him from letting out a heavy sigh when he finally closed his bedroom door behind him.

As soon as he was alone Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, biting his lip when he saw that it was after 11:30. Chances were good Puck had gone to bed by now; they both had school in the morning, and if Puck was asleep and Kurt called and woke him up, he might not be that happy about it. Then again, he might be lying awake wondering the same thing as Kurt right now.

He took a deep breath and dialed Puck’s number before he could change his mind, and when Puck picked up on the first ring Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. “Noah?”

“Hey, babe.”

The sound of Puck’s voice sent a shiver of want curling in the base of Kurt’s stomach, and he sighed at the thought of how long it would be before they could spend the night together again. “I was worried you might be asleep already.”

“Nah,” Puck said, lazy and content and Kurt smiled as he pictured Puck stretched out on his bed. “I talked to my mom.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You were right, babe. I don’t think she’s that crazy about us after all.”

Kurt told himself that he shouldn’t be upset. He knew how Puck’s mother felt about them; it had been written all over her face at dinner, even if Puck couldn’t see it. So he hadn’t expected any different, but that didn’t stop his heart from sinking when Puck said it out loud.

“I’m sorry, Noah. I would have preferred to be wrong.” When Puck didn’t answer right away Kurt imagined him shrugging on the other end of the line, the corners of his mouth turning down in a little frown. “Maybe she just needs some time to get used to the idea. That’s Carole’s theory, at least.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Puck let out a breath, and Kurt wished all over again that he could be there to stretch out next to Puck and distract him with soft kisses until Puck couldn’t remember what he’d been so upset about. He assumed that would work, anyway; it wasn’t a theory he’d had a chance to test yet, and the chance of him getting the opportunity before graduation was slim.

“Noah…”

“Yeah?”

The words _I love you_ were right on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them and shook his head. He had no idea if Puck wanted to hear them or not; he had to know how Kurt felt, but saying it out loud was a lot different than thinking. It might even be easier to say it over the phone so he wouldn’t have to see Puck’s face the first time he did, but Kurt had a feeling that made him a coward.

“I just wanted to say goodnight. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Puck said, and when he blew out a heavy sigh Kurt told himself it wasn’t disappointment. “Night, babe.”

“Goodnight,” Kurt said, but the line was already dead.

~

Puck didn’t see his mom before school the next morning. He had a feeling she was sort of avoiding him, and yeah, it kind of sucked, but he didn’t let it bother him during school, and he wasn’t going to let it bother him while he was hanging out at Kurt’s house.

He let Kurt lead him into his house, Finn running up the stairs ahead of them to disappear into his room. Puck followed Kurt at a more leisurely pace, up the stairs and into his bedroom to plant himself on the edge of Kurt’s bed and watch Kurt move around his room. He was doing pretty good with the whole ‘keeping his hands to himself’ thing, even, mostly because he was pretty sure Mr. H was lurking around somewhere waiting to bust him for some technical foul.

But after the fourth time Kurt walked past him he couldn’t take it anymore, and on Kurt’s fifth trip across the room Puck reached out and grabbed his hand. Kurt’s fingers slid through his automatically, and he let Puck pull him forward until Kurt was standing between his knees.

“My father’s right downstairs,” Kurt said, but he didn’t try to pull away.

Puck grinned, his thumb tracing Kurt’s ring as he dragged him even closer. “So? We’ve still got all our clothes on. Nothing wrong with kissing your husband, right?"

Kurt’s cheeks went pink at the sound of the word, then his hand landed on the side of Puck’s neck, his thumb tracing the line of Puck’s jaw. “I suppose he’ll have to get used to the idea some time.”

It seemed like they were doing a lot of waiting around for people to get used to the idea of them. There was his mom and Kurt’s dad, Figgins and the kids at school. Puck didn’t really care what any of them thought, but it seemed like Kurt did, so he wished they’d all hurry up and get used to it already.

He gripped Kurt’s hip with his free hand, leaning up to meet him when Kurt angled his head down for a kiss. It was tempting to pull him down onto the bed, to stretch out next to him and kiss him until he forgot about his dad and everything else that kept distracting him. But Puck knew Kurt would fight him, so he settled for a slow, thorough kiss, one hand still holding Kurt’s while Kurt’s other hand slid around the back of his neck to hold him there.

Like there was any chance of Puck trying to get away.

Puck was on his way to forgetting where they were when someone knocked on the door, and Kurt flinched and pulled away from him, backing away and Puck didn’t really get why, because they were just kissing. He looked toward the door, but instead of Mr. H glaring at him like he was trying to decide on the best place to hide Puck’s body, he spotted Finn.

He was blushing, but he didn’t look as weirded out as he had when he walked in on them in Vegas. Maybe because they still had all their clothes on, but Puck kind of hoped it was because at least his best friend was starting to get used to the idea of him and Kurt.

Still, he was interrupting, and if they were going to spend their second date sitting at the dining room table across from Mr. Hummel, Puck figured they deserved a little time to themselves. “Dude, kind of busy here.”

“Sorry,” Finn said. “It’s just that Rachel’s kind of freaking out. She says you’re not answering her texts and that you still haven’t registered or whatever and if you don’t give people enough time to buy you stuff you’re going to ruin the shower.”

“What’s the big deal?” Puck asked, frowning when Kurt ditched him completely to open the laptop sitting on his desk. “We’ve got almost two weeks until the party.”

Finn shrugged, then he glanced over his shoulder like maybe he was worried about Mr. H lurking around too. “I don’t know, dude. I just want Rachel to stop calling me. She’s on the phone with Mom now, though, that should keep her busy for awhile.”

“Why is Carole talking to Rachel?” Kurt asked, glancing up from the computer screen to frown at Finn.

“Because I kind of told her about the shower,” Finn said. “I mean, nobody said it was a secret or anything. Anyway, she seemed pretty excited about it. I think they’re talking about party favors or games or something right now.”

“What, like Xbox?”

“Not even close,” Kurt said, his frown getting a little deeper, and that definitely wasn’t a good sign. “If they think I’m letting anyone wrap me in toilet paper, they’re dreaming.”

Puck opened his mouth to ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, but before he could get the words out Kurt was motioning him over. “Noah, what do you think of these dishes?”

He stood up and crossed the room to stand behind Kurt, leaning over his shoulder to look at the laptop screen. The truth was he didn’t think much of them one way or the other; they were dishes, and as far as he was concerned it didn’t really matter what they looked like.

“Babe, are you sure we can’t just register for sex toys and booze?” he asked, and when the back of Kurt’s neck turned red he laughed and leaned in to press a kiss against warm skin.

“Even more sure now that our parents are apparently invited,” Kurt answered, and okay, he had a point. Puck pulled back a little, but he left his hand on Kurt’s shoulder while he took another look at the dishes.

“Whatever, I don’t care. They don’t have flowers, at least.”

“I thought you were determined to force our friends to buy us gifts,” Kurt said, but he didn’t really sound that annoyed. Puck figured that was because he already knew exactly what he was going to pick out, and he’d figured on having to work a little harder to talk Puck into what he wanted.

“I think they’re nice,” Finn said, and Puck frowned when he looked over to find Finn standing next to him. When Finn caught him looking he shrugged, hands in his pockets and looking as idiotic as usual. “They’re simple. Classy.”

“Exactly,” Kurt said, then he clicked a couple boxes and just like that, they were registered for the classy white dishes. “Thank you, Finn.”

Finn shrugged again, but Kurt wasn’t looking at him. He was already onto sheets or something, and Puck didn't know what thread count meant, exactly, so he figured as long as Kurt didn’t want purple or, like, rainbows, it didn’t really matter what they looked like either.

“So if the parents are invited to the shower, shouldn’t we invite Schue?”

As soon as the words were out of Finn’s mouth Kurt forgot about the million thread count sheets he’d been foaming at the mouth over. He turned away from the computer to look at Finn, one eyebrow raised in the expression he usually reserved for Rachel’s craziest outfits.

“Just what exactly is going on with you and Mr. Schuester?”

“Nothing,” Finn said, but he was blushing, and he’d already admitted to having a weekend-long slumber party with the dude while they were in Vegas. “Come on, guys, he’d want to be there. He was practically there when you got married. Sort of.”

“Dude, I always thought when you went gay it would be for Kurt,” Puck said.

The look Kurt shot him was kind of scary, but Puck wasn’t the one who’d spent sophomore year drooling over Finn like he was an all-night buffet and Kurt was starving. Anyway, it was true; he’d kind of figured Finn would go gay someday, but he hadn’t seriously considered Schue as a candidate for Finn’s pathetic guy-on-guy fantasies. Not that Puck could blame him; Schue was kind of hot, in a totally dorky way, and if it meant Finn wasn’t going to start making eyes at Puck’s husband, he was cool with it.

“I am not gay for Schue,” Finn said, but he didn’t sound like even he believed it all that much. “I just figured if you invited him he’d get you something good. He’s actually got a job, unlike most of the Glee club.”

“He has a point, babe.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned back to the laptop. “Fine, invite your cradle-robbing secret boyfriend. But you’re only setting yourself up for heartbreak. You know Schue’s track record with relationships.”

“Seriously, guys, I’m not in love with Schue,” Finn said. “We're just friends.”

Kurt made a little humming noise that translated roughly as ‘bullshit’, and Puck huffed a laugh and leaned over his shoulder again. He watched Kurt click on a set of dark blue sheets, tilting his head to the side for a second before he looked back at Puck.

“Blue or black?”

“Blue. Like your eyes, babe,” Puck said, grinning when Kurt rolled his baby blues and turned back to the computer. He clicked the button to add a set of blue sheets to the registry, though, and Puck leaned in to brush a kiss across his cheek.

Kurt smiled and turned into him until his mouth found Puck’s, pressing soft kisses to the corner of Puck’s mouth. His hand came up to rest on Puck’s chest, and when Puck finally pulled back to look at him, Finn was long gone.

“You really think he’s got a thing for Schue?” Puck asked, raising an eyebrow at Kurt.

Kurt shrugged and turned back to the computer, clicking a few links before he answered. “It’s not completely outside the realm of possibility. Surprising, certainly, but they’ve always had a sort of…intense relationship.”

The truth was, Puck didn’t really care if Finn had a thing for Schue. All he cared about was that Kurt was his, and this whole wedding shower thing was just going to make it feel even more official.

“So are we registering for one of those weird gravy sex toy things?” he asked, just to watch Kurt blush and roll his eyes again.

“You’re deranged,” Kurt said, but the corners of his mouth were turned up in a little smile, and Puck knew that meant Kurt didn’t really mind.


	15. Chapter 15

By the time Carole called them for dinner, they’d managed to agree on not only sheets and dishes, but towels, silverware, a microwave and a toaster oven, and the nicest coffee maker in Target’s online inventory. He had to talk Puck down from registering for a flat screen TV and an entire stereo system, but once Puck figured out that they could bring Kurt’s stereo with them, he conceded with only a little pouting.

Kurt didn’t have any delusions that their friends and family members were going to buy them all the items on their list. They didn’t even need all of it, but Kurt felt it was better to give people as much choice as possible.

He was counting on his father to come through with the coffee maker; it was expensive, certainly, but after four years of high school and countless conversations about the importance of well-brewed coffee, Kurt knew if anyone would see that was the most important item on the list, it was his dad. He’d even chosen a model with a timed brewing feature, mainly because he knew that was his father’s favorite thing about the coffee maker Kurt had made him buy for their own kitchen.

He hadn’t actually _mentioned_ any of this to his father yet, but now that Carole was in on the shower planning, chances were his dad had already heard about it. And even if Carole hadn’t told him, the one thing Finn seemed to take away from his stormy relationship with Rachel was an inability to keep his mouth shut, so it was possible he’d already blabbed about it in front of both their parents.

Kurt took a deep breath and slid into his seat at the dinner table, the one right between Puck and his father. They’d all lost count of the number of times Puck had eaten dinner at their house since he and Finn patched things up, but it was only the second time he’d been here as Kurt’s guest.

 _As a member of the family,_ Kurt thought, smiling as Puck sat down next to him.

“What?” Puck asked, his own mouth turning up in a smile as he waited for Kurt to let him in on the secret.

“Nothing,” Kurt said, cheeks flushing as he reached under the table for Puck’s hand. “Just happy.”

Puck’s smile turned up a notch or two, and he leaned in, gaze locked on Kurt’s mouth. Kurt felt the same flutter in his stomach that happened every time Puck kissed him, and he didn’t even think about stopping Puck and reminding him where they were. Instead he leaned in to meet Puck halfway, but as soon as he did Puck’s gaze slid past him, and he cleared his throat and pulled back.

Kurt’s cheeks flushed as he turned in time to watch his father take his seat at the head of the table. His dad was frowning in Puck’s direction, and when Kurt felt Puck tense next to him he squeezed Puck’s hand a little tighter.

“Carole, do you need any help?” Kurt asked when Carole walked into the dining room carrying yet another bowl, of salad this time. The spread she’d put on wasn’t quite as overwhelming as last night’s dinner, but it was obvious she’d cooked for an occasion instead of just a normal Tuesday evening.

“Thanks, but I think that’s about it,” she answered, setting the salad down on the table and frowning at Finn’s empty seat. “Where’s Finn?”

As soon as she said it Finn appeared in the dining room doorway, cheeks flushed and sliding his phone into his pocket. Kurt narrowed his eyes as his stepbrother slid into his chair and didn’t look over at them.

“Sorry. Phone call.”

“You’re just in time, hon,” Carole said, turning her cheerful smile on her son, and if she knew who he’d been on the phone with just now, she wouldn’t be looking quite so happy. At least Kurt assumed Finn was talking to Schue, probably calling to invite him to the shower before Rachel even picked a time.

Not that Kurt cared if Finn wanted to bring Schue as his date. It was better than Quinn or Rachel; he’d been back and forth with the two of them so many times everyone in their social circle was starting to get whiplash. So if he wanted to expand his horizons with the least appropriate man he could think of...well, Kurt had gotten married to someone he wasn’t even dating, so he was hardly in a position to judge.

Kurt let go of Puck’s hand when Carole started passing bowls and platters. It took a few dishes for him to realize what was happening, but when it dawned on Kurt that she’d made all his father’s favorites, his stomach tied itself in a tight knot. There was only one reason for her to try to soften his dad up with a menu tailor-made for him; he didn’t know about the shower, and he probably didn’t know that Kurt and Puck were already making plans to move in together.

“Noah, I’d say welcome to the family, but the truth is we’ve thought of you as family for a long time now,” Carole said, beaming at Puck with that watery smile of hers and Kurt’s stomach unclenched just a little.

He reached under the table again, hand resting on Puck’s thigh, just for a second. When Puck’s hand covered his Kurt’s heart skipped a beat, and he smiled when he felt the familiar slide of Puck’s thumb across his ring. And it didn’t make the tension go away, but knowing they were in this together made him feel a little braver, at least, and he slid his fingers through Puck’s and squeezed before he looked at his father.

“Dad, I’d like to talk to you about working at the shop this summer. You could use the help, and Noah and I need to save as much as we can before school starts.”

“Save for what?” his father said, glancing at first Kurt and then Puck before he looked at Carole. “We told you we’d take care of your room and board, son. Both you and Finn.”

“You can’t expect me to move into the dorm now,” Kurt said, frowning at his father. “I doubt OSU is going to let us move into married student housing, and even if they did, we’d still have an entire apartment to furnish.”

“So Noah’s planning to go to OSU too?” his father asked.

“Noah’s going to take some time to decide on the best course for his future,” Kurt answered, choosing his words carefully, but he had a feeling it sounded more like ‘Noah doesn’t have a clue what he’s going to do with his life’. “But we’re both moving to Columbus in the fall.”

For a minute his father just frowned at both of them, and Kurt felt himself tense as he waited for his dad to try to forbid him to move in with his husband. But a moment later his father glanced at Carole again, and when Kurt followed his gaze he saw her staring meaningfully at his dad.

“It’s a big decision, moving in together.”

“So’s getting hitched,” Puck said, and when four pairs of eyes turned on him he just shrugged. “We don’t know if it’s going to work unless we give it a try, right? I make decent money cleaning pools during the summer, and when we move I’ll find something full-time in Columbus.”

“I’m not dropping out of school, Dad. My career plans don’t have to change just because Noah and I are together.”

His father shook his head, and Kurt’s heart sank as he braced himself to hear that his father wasn’t going to give them his blessing. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much to him; blessing or no, Kurt was planning to be with Puck for as long as Puck wanted him. But for most of his life it had just been him and his dad, and Kurt wanted his father to be okay with this.

“This isn’t going to be as easy as you boys seem to think,” his dad finally said.

“We know, Dad,” Kurt answered, and when he felt a hand close around his under the table, he squeezed back as hard as he could. “But it’ll be easier if we know you’re there for us.”

“I’m always going to be there for you, son, you know that,” his dad said, and Kurt swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. “That goes for all you boys. But living on your own is a big step. There’s a lot you haven’t thought about yet. How are you planning to furnish an apartment, for starters?”

“There’s the couch from my old bedroom, the one that wouldn’t fit in my room here. We can probably find some halfway decent furniture on Craigslist, and the shower will take care of a lot of the rest.”

“What shower?” his dad said, frowning again and in spite of himself Kurt glanced down the table at Carole.

“Oh, the kids from Glee want to throw a little party for the boys,” she said, waving her hand in front of her as though it was hardly worth mentioning. “Rachel’s organizing it. I thought it would be a good idea to get the parents involved, just to make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

“I’m not feeling all that involved here,” his dad said, but at least he was frowning at Carole now.

“Honey, it’s a wedding shower. You don’t care about that sort of thing,” Carole said. “Besides, everything’s under control. Once the boys finish registering Rachel will send out the invitations, and then it’s as good as done.”

“We totally took care of that whole registering thing before dinner, Mrs. H. So you can tell Rachel all systems are go or whatever,” Puck said.

When Carole grinned at Puck Kurt’s dad rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to talk them out of the shower. He didn’t even ask what they could possibly need to register for, so Kurt didn’t have to hold his breath and hope Puck wouldn’t mention inappropriate uses for kitchen implements.

“Tell her to send an invitation to Schue,” Finn added, and when everyone turned to look at him his cheeks turned red. “What? He wants to go. He said he’d even get you guys something good.”

“I thought he was your date,” Puck said, and when Finn’s whole face turned bright red Puck laughed.

“He’s my friend,” Finn answered, but he was still blushing all the way to the roots of his hair.

“He’s your _teacher_ ,” Kurt’s dad said, but he looked as confused as Carole did, and it was hard to decide whether to pity them more than Finn when they started firing questions at him about what exactly was going on with him and Schue.

Mentioning Schue turned out to be the perfect way to distract his father from the fact that Kurt and Puck were planning to move in together, though, so Kurt was almost grateful for Finn’s sudden, bizarre fixation on their teacher. He didn’t even care that it was entirely possible his dad might try to get Schue fired again, because Puck’s hand was still wrapped around his under the table, just holding on while they listened to Finn defend Schue’s honor to their parents.

~

Puck had eaten dinner at Kurt’s house plenty of times, so it wasn’t all that different now that they were married. Mr. Hummel spent a lot more time frowning at him these days, but he kind of looked at Kurt the same way, so Puck figured Mr. H wasn’t plotting his death or anything.

Mrs. H seemed downright cool with the idea of him and Kurt, and even Finn had gotten on board pretty much right away. So if Mr. H and Puck’s mom took a little longer to come around, it didn’t matter. Puck was planning to stick with Kurt for the long haul, so they had plenty of time to get used to it.

And it was kind of cool, hanging out with Kurt’s family, mostly because they treated him like he belonged there and didn’t get all weird and uptight like his own mom. But he still liked having Kurt all to himself best, so Puck didn’t argue when Kurt thanked Carole for dinner and announced that he and Puck were going out for awhile. He just said goodbye and let Kurt pull him out of the house, and he didn’t even ask where they were going when Kurt got in his Navigator.

They ended up out by the reservoir, and Kurt must have been planning this whole thing, because he pulled a blanket out of the back of the car and they spread it out on the grass overlooking the water. It wasn’t the first time Puck had come out here on a date; he’d come here to make out plenty of times, but usually they just stayed in the car and hoped the cops didn’t come by with flashlights.

And it was Tuesday, so there wasn’t a lot of traffic or anything, but Puck was pretty sure the fact that they were in full view of anybody who drove by meant Kurt wasn’t planning to jump him. Which was how they ended up stretched out on the blanket with all their clothes still on, and the weird thing was that Puck didn’t even mind. He shifted a little closer to Kurt and lifted one of Kurt’s arms, dragging it around his shoulders so Puck could rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

Kurt let out a huff of air that could have been a laugh, but his arm stayed where Puck put it, and when Puck felt the brush of lips against his scalp he smiled and burrowed a little closer.

“Do you think your mother will come to the shower?” Kurt asked.

Puck couldn’t see his expression from where he was lying, but he’d spent enough time hanging around Kurt to know fear when he heard it. What he didn’t know was if Kurt was more scared of his mom showing up, or how Puck would feel if she didn’t. But even Puck didn’t know the answer to that one, so instead he just shrugged and reached up to grab the hand that was tracing little patterns on his shoulder through his shirt.

“She’ll probably show if Mrs. H calls and guilts her into it.”

Kurt sighed above him like maybe he thought the whole thing with Puck’s mom was his fault, so Puck lifted Kurt’s hand and pressed his lips to Kurt’s knuckles. That got him another little sigh, then Kurt shifted under him like he was trying to get them even closer together.

“I can’t help feeling responsible for the tension between you and your mother.”

“How do you figure that?” Puck asked, shifting his weight to try to look up at Kurt without getting up. It was a weird angle and he couldn’t really see much more than the side of Kurt’s face, but he leaned up and pressed a kiss to the underside of Kurt’s chin. “Getting married was my idea, babe, I keep telling you that.”

“But if I hadn’t gotten drunk none of this would have happened. If I’d just been thinking clearly…”

“So the only way you’d marry me is…what, if you were drunk?” Puck asked, and this time he did sit up, pulling away from Kurt’s warmth and the hand that had been tracing little patterns on the side of his neck, and that sucked, because it had felt really good.

“No,” Kurt said, then he sat up and reached out to grip Puck’s arm, like maybe he was afraid Puck was going to take off and try to walk all the way home from the reservoir or something. “Noah, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that if I’d been sober, you wouldn’t have felt obligated to marry me just to get me to sleep with you. If I’d been thinking clearly I would have been able to see that you were serious before we got as far as a wedding ceremony.”

“I didn’t marry you just to get you to put out, Kurt.” Puck let out a deep breath, looking down at the blanket between them so he wouldn’t have to see Kurt’s expression. “Do you remember what you said to me that night?”

He glanced up long enough to watch Kurt shake his head, two bright spots of pink starting in the middle of his cheeks and spreading outward. It was tempting to reach out and touch them, to feel the heat of Kurt’s skin under his fingers and know that he was the only one who got to touch Kurt that way.

“You said if you slept with me that you were going to fall in love with me. So I figured if you were going to spend the rest of your life pining or whatever, I should just hang around and make it easy on you.”

He tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter, like it wasn’t going to kill him to hear Kurt take it back. But the thing was, it _did_ matter. It mattered more than getting Lauren to agree to go out with him, mattered more than telling Quinn he loved her and never hearing her say it back. It mattered as much as it did when he asked for a chance to be a father and got shut down at pretty much every turn.

It mattered a lot, and for the first time in his life he held his breath while he waited for an answer.

He didn’t get it right away. For a few seconds Kurt just sat there and stared at him, face even redder and his eyes a little watery, kind of the way Mrs. H had looked at him at dinner when she told Puck he was part of the family. Then Kurt pushed up on his knees and reached out to rest a hand on Puck’s cheek, his thumb running along Puck’s skin for another beat before he finally answered.

“I do love you, Noah. Maybe it didn’t happen that first night, and I certainly didn’t plan it, but it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with you.”

He’d spent so much time thinking about what it would be like to hear those words that he’d never really thought about what he’d say when he finally heard them. _I love you too_ was probably a pretty good start, but when he opened his mouth all he managed was a gruff, “Good” around the lump in his throat. Then he leaned in and kissed Kurt, hard and maybe a little desperate but he didn’t care, because Kurt’s other hand was on the front of his shirt to hold him there, and he was kissing Puck back like his life depended on it. Like he had a point to prove, and if he was trying to prove he meant it, he was doing just fine.

Puck pulled back to gulp for air, thumb coming up to trace Kurt’s full bottom lip, like he couldn’t stop himself from touching, even for a few seconds. And he didn’t want to try, because Kurt _loved_ him, and yeah, he’d already kind of known it, but it turned out that hearing Kurt say it made a difference.

“I love you too, babe. So fucking much.”

“Good.” He felt Kurt’s mouth curve into a smile under his touch, and Puck huffed a soft laugh and swayed forward to press another kiss against his lips.

“I already told my mom I married you because I wanted to, so she’s just going to have to deal,” Puck said, forehead pressed against Kurt’s and Kurt’s breath warm against his mouth. “Just like your dad, just like everybody else.”

He eased Kurt backwards while he kissed him, stretching out on the blanket next to Kurt and sliding an arm around his waist to pull him flush against Puck’s body. Kurt’s hands were on his arms, running up and down his guns and Puck grinned against his mouth and flexed the one that wasn’t trapped under him until Kurt laughed and pulled back to look at him.

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you starting up that pool cleaning business of yours again,” he said. “You’re sure that’s not too much temptation?”

“Babe,” Puck said, his hand leaving Kurt’s waist to palm the swell of his ass, “why would I want to mess around with some cougar when I’ve got this waiting for me at home?”

Kurt made a little humming noise against his lips that could have meant anything, pretty much, so Puck decided to believe that it meant Kurt was totally down with the logic of his argument. Besides, he had all the equipment for pool cleaning already, and he knew he could save a decent amount of money over the next couple months if he wasn’t blowing all his income on booze like he usually did.

Which meant between his pool cleaning business and Kurt’s job at the garage, they’d have a decent amount of cash to get them started in Columbus. And it sort of sounded like they were going to need it, at least if he got what Kurt was saying about furniture and Craigslist when they were at dinner.

“What are we going to do about a bed?” he asked, pulling back to look at Kurt again.

For a second Kurt just blinked at him like he hadn’t really thought about it, but it was kind of an important detail. As far as Puck was concerned it was the _most_ important detail; they could live without a TV and a kick-ass stereo system if they had to, but he fully intended to fuck his husband in style, and that meant a big bed to put those expensive fucking sheets they’d registered for on.

“There’s my bed, I suppose,” Kurt answered, chewing on his lip like he was weighing their options. “But if we take that to Columbus we’ll have to stay with your mother every time we come home to visit.”

Puck didn’t have a problem with that, but he had a feeling Kurt might. It was possible his mom might too, but that thought left a weird feeling in his stomach, so he ignored it and focused on the way Kurt’s teeth were worrying his lip.

“Ma might let us take mine. Give her more space to turn my room into a shrine or whatever.”

“Your mother is not going to turn your bedroom into a shrine,” Kurt said, and he sounded a lot more sure about it than Puck. “Though I suppose if she’s not okay with our relationship, we might have to stay with my father when we visit. Or I’d have to, at least. Of course, this is all provided my father doesn’t choose to be hopelessly old-fashioned about letting me share a bed with my husband under his roof.”

“Kurt,” Puck said when he paused for breath, because it looked like he was working himself into a decent tirade, and Puck knew if he didn’t do something to derail him that Kurt would be at it for awhile. “We’re married. That means we don’t take separate vacations. If my mom won’t put up both of us, she’s just gonna have to deal with not seeing me at all.”

“Some couples do vacation separately, you know,” Kurt said when Puck was finished driving home his point with a thorough kiss. He was flushed and a little breathless, and Puck grinned at the glazed look in his eyes.

“Some couples hate each other’s guts,” Puck answered, lips brushing Kurt’s, “but that’s not us, babe, and it’s never gonna be.”

It was a big promise to make, but Kurt was smiling at him like he believed it. Like he really thought they had a chance of sticking it out for the long haul, and if Kurt believed in them, Puck figured none of the rest of it mattered.


	16. Chapter 16

To say that Kurt and Puck had been inseparable since their wedding would be a lie, considering Kurt spent most of the first day of their marriage avoiding Puck entirely. But after that first day they’d been together almost constantly, separating only to get a few hours’ sleep before they were attached at the hip again. And Kurt wasn’t going to complain about getting as much of Puck’s time as he could, but it made surprising him with the perfect wedding gift a lot more challenging.

Granted, it was slightly belated, but considering the unusual circumstances surrounding their marriage, Kurt assumed Puck wouldn’t mind. He seemed to enjoy presents as a concept, at any rate, and this present in particular had been his idea in the first place, so Kurt was at least confident he’d like it.

It was Saturday morning before he had a chance to do anything about it. On Wednesday Kurt was forced to spend almost his entire evening writing a final paper for his French IV class, and he knew better than to think he could actually concentrate with Puck hanging around , so he’d sent Puck home to try to convince his mother that she wasn’t being abandoned completely. Puck had pouted, but in the end he’d conceded that maybe Kurt had a point, and after a lingering kiss, just to remind Kurt what he’d be missing, he’d let Kurt drop him at home.

On Thursday the rest of New Directions had insisted on a group outing to celebrate their impending graduation, which meant Kurt and Puck spent yet another evening holding hands under a table while their friends all discussed their college plans. Kurt mostly didn’t mind; they weren’t going to get too many more chances to be together all at once, after all, not with half of Glee leaving for college before long.

Quinn and Santana and even Brittany were planning to stay in Lima and attend the Ohio State campus there, at least for the first year or so. Artie was headed to MIT, and Rachel was already packing for New York. Mercedes was planning to attend OSU in Columbus with Kurt, but their plans to get assigned to the same dorm had obviously changed.

Whether Mercedes had realized that yet or not Kurt couldn’t be sure; she hadn’t brought it up, but the truth was he hadn’t seen much of her all week. Mostly he’d been caught up in finding as much time as he could to be alone with Puck, and anything that got in the way of that felt like an unnecessary distraction. Maybe it wasn’t fair to their friends, but they’d been married less than a week and they hadn’t even gotten a honeymoon, really, so it seemed to Kurt that they had a right to be a little selfish.

He called Mercedes as early as he dared on Saturday morning. When she answered the phone she sounded awake, at least, and when Kurt said he needed her help and he was coming over to get her, she didn’t even ask that many questions before she promised to be ready in half an hour.

Forty-five minutes later they were pulling into a parking space near the food court entrance at the mall, and Kurt retrieved the large manila envelope he’d carefully set on the back seat before they headed inside.

“So what’s the shopping emergency?” Mercedes asked, eyeing the envelope Kurt was holding as though it contained the sketches for Prada’s Fall line.

“I’m planning to frame our wedding photo to give to Noah at the shower, and I need your help picking out the perfect frame. I want something that says ‘this wasn’t a mistake’, but it can’t be too tacky. No hearts or little doves or anything like that. Definitely no religious motifs.”

When he looked over at her she was watching him, a funny little smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Kurt narrowed his eyes at her, and when he did she laughed and slid her arm through his.

“Care to let me in on the joke?”

“It’s just weird to hear you calling Puck ‘Noah’, that’s all.”

“That’s his name,” Kurt said, but he knew what she meant, and in spite of himself his own mouth turned up into a matching smile. “Do you have some problem with my husband’s name?”

She snorted a fairly unladylike laugh and squeezed his arm a little tighter. “You know everybody’s happy for you guys, Kurt. Puck changed a lot after you left for Dalton, and it seems like he’s kind of had a thing for you for awhile now.”

She paused, looking away for a second and Kurt could tell she wanted to say something that she thought was going to make him mad.

“But?”

Mercedes shrugged, then she took a deep breath and let go of his arm. “But you guys have barely been together a week and you’re talking about moving in together. What if it doesn’t work out?”

He didn’t bother pointing out that they’d actually been together exactly a week. Last night was the one week anniversary of their wedding, and it was the first night since they’d been married that they’d had a whole night to themselves with no family dinners or friends or homework to distract them.

It was the first chance they’d had to go on an actual date, and Puck had made a big production of taking him to Breadstix for dinner and making sure everybody in the place knew it was a date. Afterwards they’d driven out to the lake and parked in the most secluded spot Kurt knew of, and when Puck produced the bottle of champagne he’d smuggled into the car Kurt was glad neither of them had to be home for hours.

“Trying to get me drunk, Mr. Puckerman?” he’d asked, and when Puck laughed and leaned close to whisper, “No way, babe, I want you to remember everything about tonight,” Kurt had blushed all the way to his toes.

Kurt blushed again at the memory and turned into Macy’s. He led Mercedes to the Housewares department and straight to the accessories section, stopping in front of a display of Waterford and picking up a crystal picture frame.

He ran his index finger down the edge of the frame, studying the etching in the glass for a moment before he shook his head and set it back on the shelf.

“No, crystal won’t work with our décor. Anyway, it’s too expensive.”

“Since when do you care about expensive?” Mercedes asked, and when he looked over she was frowning at him.

“Since Noah agreed to move to Columbus with me. Look, Mercedes, I know we said we’d try to get into the same dorm, but…”

She waved off his apology, still frowning as she followed him down the aisle. “Boy, would you forget about the dorm? You’re married to _Puck_. He’s changed a lot, but you’ve still only been dating him for a week. What if you move in together and find out he drives you to, like, Tyra levels of crazy?”

“A roommate in the dorm could just as easily drive me crazy,” Kurt answered, shrugging and picking up another picture frame. He studied it for a few seconds, then he opened the envelope and pulled out the picture of him and Puck smiling at each other on their wedding night. “At least Noah and I know each other. I already know that he can be crude and that he throws his towels on the bathroom floor, and that he doesn’t always think things through. But he loves me, and for that I think I can live with the occasional towel on the floor.”

He was still holding the picture up, studying the way it looked against the silver frame. Mercedes looked over his shoulder, smiling at the picture for a second before she answered. “You love him too, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

As soon as he said it Kurt’s phone started playing Puck’s ringtone, and he smiled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Hello?”

“Babe,” Puck said, “where the fuck are you?”

“At the mall with Mercedes,” Kurt answered. “Why, where are you?”

“In your room, all by myself.”

Kurt heard a heavy sigh on the other end of the line and pictured Puck stretched out on his bed, disappointed to find Kurt already gone. There was part of Kurt that wished he was back in his room with Puck, but even if he was he’d just spend the entire time worrying about his father walking in on them, and anyway if he didn’t deal with Puck’s wedding gift today there wouldn’t _be_ a gift when the shower finally rolled around.

“I thought you’d still be sleeping,” Kurt said. “You expended an awful lot of energy last night.”

Puck chuckled low in his ear, the sound sending a shiver of want down Kurt’s spine. He felt his face heat up and set the third frame down, dismissing the flower motif entirely and scanning the shelves for something that reminded him of Puck.

“I’d still be sleeping if you were sleeping with me.” Puck yawned as though he was illustrating his point, then he sighed again and Kurt heard him shifting on his bed. “What are you doing at the mall, anyway?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Babe, we’re married, we’re supposed to tell each other shit,” Puck said, and Kurt rolled his eyes because seriously, if he was going to whine about it, he didn’t even deserve a wedding gift.

“I said it was a surprise, not a secret. You’ll find out what it is soon enough.”

“If you wanted to go sex toy shopping I would have gone with you,” Puck said, and Kurt felt himself blush all over again.

“Yes, because that’s exactly the sort of shopping trip on which I’d ask Mercedes to accompany me.”

Puck snorted a laugh on the other end of the line, and Kurt stole a glance at Mercedes to find her narrowing her eyes at him. “I know she’s your girl and all, babe, but there’s some stuff you only get to do with me now.”

“You’re impossible,” Kurt said, but he didn’t quite manage to stifle a smile at the thought of all the things he got to do with Puck from now on.

“Whatever, just get your ass home. It’s boring here without you.”

Kurt didn’t bother pointing out that Puck had spent countless hours at his house before they ever got together, most of them killing things on Finn’s Xbox. Reminding Puck that Finn was right in the next room and probably more than happy to host a Halo marathon was the best way to guarantee he wouldn’t see Puck all day, and Kurt wasn’t interested in _that_ much time to himself.

Before he could answer Mercedes handed him another frame, and Kurt glanced up at her before he reached for it. It was a simple silver metal frame, with clean lines and a modern aesthetic he knew would appeal to Puck. It was elegant enough for Kurt’s tastes, though, and it would go well with all the accessories he’d been planning to bring with them from his own room at home.

“I’ll be there before you know it,” he said, then he smiled at Mercedes and hung up the phone.

~

Puck didn’t get up this early on the weekend. On game days, sure, sometimes he had to haul himself out of bed to catch an early bus or something, but on a regular Saturday he’d just as soon sleep until noon.

Regular Saturdays before he married Kurt meant nothing to do, except maybe hang out with Finn and pretend he didn’t show up at Finn’s house half the time in the hope that Kurt would be hanging around too. Just because he liked watching Kurt _move_ , and that probably should have told him something about how fast he was going to get in over his head, but Puck had never been all that good at thinking things through.

Then again, this was the second Saturday he’d woken up married, and it was the second Saturday in a row he’d woken up before 9:00, so maybe this was his regular Saturday routine now. Maybe once he got to wake up next to Kurt instead of kissing him goodbye and watching him drive home alone he’d be able to sleep in again, but he had a feeling if he woke up with Kurt in his bed he’d have better things to do with his Saturday mornings than sleep.

That had been his plan for their first Saturday morning, but Kurt had bailed before Puck could try to get him on board. Which was a waste, considering, but since then Kurt had made it up to him plenty. There was last night in the back of his Navigator, for starters, and this time Puck had remembered lube _and_ condoms. He’d even gotten a bottle of champagne past Kurt, just to surprise him, and as one-week anniversary celebrations went, Puck figured it wasn’t half-bad.

It would have been a lot better if they’d ended the night in the same bed, but so far Puck hadn’t figured out how to make that happen. He’d thought about renting a room someplace, but they were supposed to be saving money, and any place that was cheap enough not to put a dent in their budget would probably be sketchy enough for Kurt to refuse to put out. It would be easy enough to get Kurt past his mom and sister, but even once they were alone in Puck’s room he had a feeling Kurt would be too worried about getting caught to take advantage of the privacy.

Kurt’s house was a total wash; his family was always around, for one thing, and they weren’t always that big on waiting for an answer after they knocked. Not that Puck cared much if somebody walked in and got an eyeful, but Kurt did, and his dad _really_ cared, and Puck didn’t really want to get himself banned from Kurt’s house for, like, _life_.

After graduation it would be a little easier, at least during the day while Puck’s mom was at work. But he and Kurt would both be working too, which meant they probably weren’t going to have much chance to take advantage of Puck’s empty house even during the summer. And it wasn’t like he couldn’t wait; he’d learned all about waiting while he was with Lauren, and once he got used to it he didn’t even mind that much.

The difference this time was that Kurt didn’t want to wait either, and if they were both willing it just seemed kind of lame that they were still getting cockblocked even now that they were married.

So the lack of regular sex was lame, but what was even more lame was the fact that they didn’t get to spend the night in the same bed. That was the only reason he was out of bed before 9:00, and it was the reason he put on his running shorts and a Titans t-shirt and jogged the couple miles to Kurt’s house while it was still cool enough to let him run without getting so sweaty Kurt would kick him right back out again.

Or maybe Kurt would let Puck use his shower; it wouldn’t be the same as showering together or anything, but at least Kurt would be there when Puck got out, and if his folks weren’t around maybe Puck could even talk Kurt into fooling around a little.

Except when he got to Kurt’s house, Finn was the only one home. He answered the doorbell and let Puck in, sort of frowning like he was confused about something, and Puck didn’t get why until Finn finally said, “Kurt’s not here, man. He took off like half an hour ago.”

“Where’d he go?”

“Search me,” Finn said, shrugging and shutting the door behind Puck.

“Did he say when he’s coming back?”

“Not to me,” Finn answered.

He headed back up the stairs to his room, and Puck followed because it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. He could go home, sure, but he’d just be waiting around for Kurt to get home there too, and at least if he was at Kurt’s house Puck would get to see him sooner.

He followed Finn into his room and sat down in the desk chair, watching while Finn pulled on a pair of shoes.

“You want to play some Halo or something until Kurt gets home?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he didn’t quite meet Puck’s eyes when he looked over at him. “I...uh...I have to be somewhere.”

“Dude, you’re not hooking up with Quinn or Rachel again, are you? I thought you were in love with Schue now.”

“I keep telling you, I’m not in love with Schue,” Finn said, but he didn’t sound all that convincing. He was blushing, anyway, the same color Kurt turned whenever Puck said ‘I love you’, and if he didn’t know better, he could almost believe they really were brothers when they both blushed like that.

“Right.” Puck shrugged and stood up, casting one more glance at Finn before he shook his head and headed for the door. “Whatever, dude, have fun with your new boyfriend. Just don’t get busted before graduation or you’ll get him fired.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Finn called after him as he walked down the hall to Kurt’s room.

Puck ignored him and threw himself down on Kurt’s bed, then he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. He pressed Kurt’s speed dial and waited while the phone rang, turning his head to look at the junk lining Kurt’s bookshelves. He had kind of a lot of books, and Puck hoped he wasn’t planning to bring all of them to Columbus, because they looked kind of heavy.

“Hello?”

“Babe,” Puck said when Kurt finally picked up, “where the fuck are you?”

“At the mall with Mercedes,” Kurt answered, and seriously, who went to the mall this early on a Saturday? “Why, where are you?”

“In your room, all by myself,” Puck said. He did his best to sound as annoyed about it as possible, mostly because he figured if Kurt started wondering what a bored Puck would do to his stuff while he wasn’t around to supervise, he’d hurry his ass up and get home.

“I thought you’d still be sleeping,” Kurt said, his voice dropping all of a sudden like maybe he was trying to keep Mercedes from hearing him. “You expended an awful lot of energy last night.”

He pictured Kurt blushing and laughed low in his throat, stretching on Kurt’s bed and folding one arm behind his head. “I’d still be sleeping if you were sleeping with me. What are you doing at the mall, anyway?”

“I can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Babe, we’re married, we’re supposed to tell each other shit.”

“I said it was a surprise, not a secret. You’ll find out what it is soon enough.”

And he didn’t know they were supposed to get each other presents, but at least that was a decent reason for Kurt to ditch him on the morning after their one-week anniversary. Still, he’d rather Kurt was home while they had his house all to themselves. “If you wanted to go sex toy shopping I would have gone with you.”

“Yes, because that’s exactly the sort of shopping trip on which I’d ask Mercedes to accompany me.”

Puck pictured Kurt’s blush and the bitch face he was probably giving Puck through the phone and laughed again. “I know she’s your girl and all, babe, but there’s some stuff you only get to do with me now.”

“You’re impossible,” Kurt said in a voice that went straight to Puck’s dick, and he wished all over again that Kurt would just ditch the shopping trip and come home already.

“Whatever, just get your ass home. It’s boring here without you,” he said, and he didn’t even care if he sounded pathetic, because if Kurt felt bad for ditching him he’d just get home that much faster.

“I’ll be there before you know it,” Kurt said, then he hung up the phone, and Puck let out a frustrated sigh and dropped his phone onto the bed.

He sat up and looked around the room, frowning at the books again before he spotted Kurt’s laptop sitting open on his desk. It wasn’t snooping, he told himself as he sat down at Kurt’s desk and opened the computer. They were married, and before long they’d be living together, so technically it was _their_ laptop now.

Granted, Kurt might be kind of pissed if he caught Puck checking his browser history to see what kind of porn he watched, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Only there wasn’t any porn in Kurt’s browser history, which meant he was either awesome at covering his tracks, or he was the only guy at McKinley who didn’t watch porn.

Puck shook his head and typed craigslist.org into the address bar; he’d been on Craigslist before, mostly to check out the Adult Services section, but he knew people sold regular stuff there sometimes too. He’d never _looked_ at any of it before, but he had some time to kill, and anyway he didn’t want Kurt to think he wasn’t willing to pitch in when it came to setting up their new place.

There were some beds for sale, but mostly frames with no mattresses, and a lot of them had ‘antique’ in the description, and Puck didn’t know or anything, but he was pretty sure that meant ‘expensive’. He looked through a few days’ worth of listings anyway, but most of the stuff people around Lima were selling was kind of lame.

Just for the hell of it he looked at the Columbus listings, and there was a lot more stuff for sale there. It made sense; Columbus was a lot bigger than Lima, for one thing, so there were more people to buy stuff from. But there was no point buying anything from someone in Columbus when they didn’t have anywhere to put it, so Puck gave up after a few days’ worth of Columbus’ furniture listings.

Instead he clicked on the rental listings; there were a lot of them, but the thing was, most of them were two or three bedrooms, and the handful of one bedroom places cost almost as much to rent as the two bedrooms. It didn’t make a whole lot of sense, and he was still frowning at the laptop screen in frustration when he heard the front door open.

A couple minutes later someone was climbing the stairs, and a few seconds after that Kurt walked into his room, freezing with a Macy’s bag in his hand when he spotted Puck. “Please tell me you’re not surfing porn with my father and Carole in the house.”

“Nobody’s home,” Puck answered as he watched Kurt shove the Macy’s bag into his closet and shut the door. “And I’m not surfing porn. I’m looking at apartments.”

Just for a second Kurt looked sort of surprised, then he smiled and flushed a little, and Puck laughed and turned back to the computer. “What I don’t get is why the one bedroom places cost almost as much as the two bedrooms.”

“Most people want at least two bedrooms,” Kurt answered, crossing the room to stand next to Puck. His hand landed on Puck’s shoulder, and Puck looked up long enough to slide his arm around Kurt’s waist and drag him down onto the chair next to him. There wasn’t enough room for both of them, but he moved over anyway, and when Kurt leaned into him Puck brushed a kiss across his cheek.

“One bedrooms are probably harder to rent,” Kurt continued, gaze focused on the computer screen as Puck clicked on a two-bedroom listing. “We could always recruit someone to rent the other room. It would save a lot of money on rent. I could ask Mercedes.”

Puck squinted at the tiny pictures posted on the listing for another second before he clicked the back button and scrolled down to the next listing. “I don’t know, babe. I sort of like the idea of having you all to myself.”

He could almost hear Kurt rolling his eyes, but he looked over to see it anyway. Puck grinned and planted another kiss on Kurt’s cheek, then he turned back to the computer and clicked on another apartment.

“What about Finn?” Puck asked, raising his eyebrows when Kurt frowned at him. “You got something against your own brother?”

“Stepbrother. And if I can’t invite my best friend to live with us, why do you get to invite yours?”

Puck shrugged and crossed the apartment off his mental list before he clicked the back button again. “He’s family, babe. Besides, it’ll be a lot easier to get your dad on board with the plan if Finn’s moving in with us, won’t it?”

For a second Kurt didn’t answer. He just sat there, half on the chair, biting his lip and looking like he didn’t really want to admit that Puck had a point. Finally he blew out a heavy breath and leaned a little harder against Puck, squinting at the listing Puck clicked on before he answered.

“I suppose that’s true. And the two bedrooms really _are_ more economical. But feeding Finn’s going to cost a fortune.”

“So everybody buys their own groceries, and if Finn runs out of cash, that’s his problem.”

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Kurt asked, frowning at him like maybe he was trying to figure out Puck’s angle. But the truth was he hadn’t been thinking about it all that long; a couple days, maybe, and the idea of a roommate hadn’t dawned on him until Kurt brought it up.

Puck just shrugged and closed the browser, then he closed the laptop and stood up. He reached out to catch Kurt before he could fall off the edge of the chair, dragging him back to his feet and right up against Puck’s chest. He reached for Kurt’s arms and pulled them around his waist, then he leaned in for their first kiss of the day.

“Hi,” Kurt said when Puck let him up for air, his voice soft and kind of breathy, and Puck laughed at the goofy smile on his face.

“So we’ve got the whole house to ourselves, babe,” he said, one hand in Kurt’s hair and the other sliding down his back to palm his ass.

“Where’s Finn?” Kurt asked, but he didn’t move Puck’s hand off his ass, and he didn’t object when Puck started backing them toward the bed.

“He wouldn’t say where he was going, but I figure he’s got a date with Schue.”

“He does not,” Kurt said as Puck pushed until he sat down on the edge of his bed. “Does he?”

Puck shrugged and climbed over Kurt, pressing him down into the mattress until they were touching from their ankles all the way to their chests. “All I know is he didn’t deny it.”

He leaned in to open his mouth against the side of Kurt’s neck, sucking hot kisses into his skin until Kurt was making little hitching noises in his throat and arching up against Puck. His hands were wrapped around Puck’s biceps, fingers digging in hard and Puck kept waiting for the moment that Kurt remembered where they were and pushed him away, but it never happened.

“Do you know when your folks are coming home?” Puck asked, murmuring the words against Kurt’s skin as he kissed his way up to Kurt’s mouth.

“No idea,” Kurt answered, breathy and kind of distracted and Puck grinned and kissed him hard. Kurt kissed him right back, his hands leaving Puck’s arms to slide down his back, pushing up under his shirt to flex against bare skin. “Noah...”

“Yeah?”

He pulled back just far enough to look at Kurt, one hand sliding through his hair and maybe _this_ was the moment Kurt was going to put the brakes on. And Puck mostly didn’t mind all that much, because he liked just hanging out with Kurt, but it seemed like a shame to waste the few chances they were going to get to be alone before they finally moved in together.

Kurt was still looking at him, eyes kind of dark and blushing and it didn’t _look_ like he wanted to stop. Then he slid Puck’s shirt even further up his back, and when it dawned on Puck what he wanted he sat up and pulled it off. As soon as it hit the bed Kurt was pulling him back down, hands sliding across Puck’s skin like he wanted to touch everywhere at once. And that was just fine with Puck, because he liked the way Kurt’s hands felt on him.

Then Kurt’s palms flattened against Puck’s chest and he shoved, pushing until Puck took the hint and rolled onto his back. A second later Puck found himself with a lapful of Kurt, and when their cocks pressed together through their clothes Puck bit down hard on a moan.

He pushed up on his elbows to watch while Kurt worked open the buttons of his own shirt, and when he slid it off and dropped it on the bed Puck slid an arm around his waist to press their bare chests together.

“We should hurry,” Kurt murmured against his mouth, and Puck just nodded, because that was a plan he could totally work with.


	17. Chapter 17

Kurt knew better. He knew they shouldn’t take the risk, not when he had no idea where his father was or when he was coming back. It was possible he’d gone to the shop, in which case he might be gone for hours, but if he and Carole had just gone out for a late breakfast or a little shopping, they could be back any time.

The fact remained, however, that Kurt wasn’t in his bedroom messing around with just any boy. Puck was his _husband_ , and surely that deserved a certain amount of respect. It meant they were going to be together forever, at any rate, and eventually his father was going to have to get used to that fact.

So he didn’t stop Puck from backing him toward the bed, and he didn’t argue when Puck crawled over him and stretched out on the bed next to Kurt. Instead he just slid his hands under Puck’s shirt, and when Puck took the hint and pulled it off, Kurt decided it was worth the risk of getting caught.

It was worth the potential of upsetting his father to feel Puck’s hands on his skin, his mouth on Kurt's neck and his erection pressing against Kurt's through their clothes. He slid his hands up Puck’s chest, pushing until Puck rolled onto his back on the mattress. Kurt swung a leg over his hips, straddling his lap and reaching for the buttons on his own shirt. Puck watched while he pulled his shirt off, and when Kurt dropped it on the bed Puck reached for him again.

“We should hurry,” Kurt said, because they weren’t doing anything wrong, but there was no reason to traumatize his father if they could avoid it.

He kissed Puck again, hands on either side of his face to hold him still, lingering for a few moments before he let go and climbed off the bed. Once he closed his bedroom door he crossed to his bathroom, reaching into a drawer for lube and a condom before he made his way back to Puck.

Puck who’d ditched his shorts and shoes while Kurt wasn’t looking, leaving him naked and stretched out on Kurt’s bed, legs apart and his hand loosely gripping his cock. He watched while Kurt kicked his own shoes off, then reached for the button on his jeans. He took his time sliding them down, the weight of Puck’s gaze heavy on him and he felt his face heat up, but he didn’t stop.

Once he was completely naked he climbed back on the bed again and pushed Puck’s hand out of the way so he could roll the condom down Puck’s length. When he looked up again Puck was lying back against his pillows, arms folded behind his head and smirking at him.

“You planning on doing all the work, babe?”

“You did plenty of work last night,” Kurt answered, reaching for the lube and squeezing some on his palm before he reached for Puck again. “I’d say there’s a minimal amount of work to be done.”

For a second Puck just blinked at him, but when Kurt reached for the lube again and then reached behind himself, Puck realized what he meant. He circled his own entrance, then he let out a deep breath and pushed two fingers as far inside himself as he could get. Which wasn’t that far, considering the angle, but judging by Puck’s, “damn, babe,” it got the point across.

Puck’s hands were on his thighs, fingers flexing hard against Kurt’s skin and distracting enough to keep him from hissing at the slight burn of the stretch. He pulled his fingers free and gripped Puck’s cock, pushing up on his knees and lining himself up to sink down until Puck was buried halfway inside him.

“Fuck,” Puck ground out between clenched teeth, his hands closing hard on Kurt’s hips. “You sure you’re ready?”

Kurt’s only answer was a sharp nod. His breath came in short, shallow bursts, and he could feel his chest and neck flushing with the effort to take Puck in a little further. Puck’s hands were still on him, easing Kurt down until he was buried as deep as he could get, then lifting Kurt back off until he was almost all the way out again. Kurt’s hands closed around Puck’s forearms, gripping tight as he pushed up on his knees and then sank back down again.

Puck was talking, words like _fuck, babe_ and _you’re so hot_ and _damn, I love you_ tumbling out of his mouth and making Kurt’s heart pound even harder. It was still sort of strange, being on display like this, but it didn’t make Kurt feel nearly as uncomfortable as he’d always thought it would.

He was used to standing out from the crowd, but he’d always stood out because of his wardrobe or because of his talent. Being the focus of attention when there was nothing to hide behind felt a lot different than being stared at and whispered about because of his fashion sense, or even because he was gay. Being stripped down and exposed in front of someone like Puck should have bothered him even more, because Puck was experienced and he was physically perfect, and he’d probably never had a single doubt about his attractiveness.

Puck oozed the kind of sex appeal Kurt had always believed he’d never be capable of, but somehow Puck made him feel like he _was_ sexy, that he was hot and worthy of attention and all those other things Puck couldn't seem to stop himself from saying.

"Noah," Kurt said, voice breathy and a little strained, "I need..."

Before he even finished his thought Puck was moving, wrapping strong arms around Kurt and dragging him forward for a hard kiss. When they came up for air Kurt was flat on his back, legs bent toward his chest and Puck kissed him again before he slid back inside. Kurt sighed when Puck bottomed out inside him, hands on Puck’s back to drag him forward and kiss him again.

He thrust up to meet each stroke, legs hooked around Puck’s waist and biting down hard on a gasp when Puck angled his hips to hit the spot inside Kurt that made his vision go white for a second. Kurt clenched hard around Puck, pulling him in even deeper and dragging a low moan out of him. And if his father did come home there was no way he wasn’t going to hear them, but Kurt couldn’t make himself care, and he definitely couldn’t make himself stop.

“Harder,” Kurt said, and when Puck complied he arched his back against the mattress and held on. His fingers dug into Puck’s shoulders hard enough to leave marks, but if Puck noticed he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he thrust forward even harder, over and over and hitting that spot nearly every time, and if Kurt wasn’t too far gone to notice the high whine he let out with each thrust, he would have blushed to hear himself lose that much control.

Puck was talking again, voice strained and his hand wrapped around Kurt’s cock while he practically begged Kurt to come. A second later Kurt did, arching up hard into Puck’s grip and tightening around him, dragging Puck’s own orgasm out of him. He collapsed on top of Kurt, planting hot, breathless kisses down the side of his neck. Kurt turned into the sensation, one hand on the side of Puck’s face to turn him until he could press their mouths together.

Puck was still buried inside him, hips moving in a lazy rhythm and dragging breathy little gasps out of Kurt. It was too much and not enough at the same time, and Kurt never wanted him to stop. But they couldn’t stay like this forever, and anyway his muscles were starting to ache where his legs were still clamped around Puck’s waist. As soon as Kurt let his legs drop Puck slipped out of him, and he bit his lip against a fresh moan at the sensation.

Long before he was ready to let go Puck was pulling out of his grip, climbing off the bed and disappearing into Kurt’s bathroom to deal with the condom. Kurt lay back against his pillows, chest rising and falling with each breath while he listened to the water running and told himself he should get up and clean himself up before anyone came home. Before he talked himself into it the mattress dipped again, then Puck was sliding between the sheets next to him and wrapping an arm around Kurt’s waist to pull him close.

His hand slid down Kurt’s back to rest at the top of his ass, fingers dipping between his cheeks and Kurt let out a little hiss when Puck’s thumb slid across his opening. He didn’t press inside, and Kurt knew he shouldn’t be disappointed, because they’d already pressed their luck enough for one morning. But that didn’t stop him from wanting more, as much as Puck would give him, and the thought of waiting two more months for the freedom to share the same bed was more than frustrating.

“Babe,” Puck murmured against his mouth, and Kurt made a little humming noise and pressed forward to kiss him. When he pulled back again Puck was grinning at him, warm and kind of lazy and the sight made Kurt’s heart skip a beat. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking maybe you should fuck me next time.”

“Oh.” _Oh._

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it. He’d thought about it a time or two, wondered just how far Puck would be willing to go, mostly while he had his hand on Puck’s ass already. But he usually had his mouth on Puck’s dick at the same time, and it was easy to convince himself that the only reason Puck didn’t protest the hand on his ass was because he was distracted by Kurt’s mouth.

“So you’ve been thinking about...”

“You fucking me, yeah,” Puck finished for him, and Kurt’s cock twitched at the thought. “I mean, it seems like you really get off on it, so I kind of want to try it.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, then he swallowed the urge to ask if ‘next time’ could start right now. His family would be home eventually, after all, and the last thing he wanted was any of them walking in and traumatizing Puck during his first experience with bottoming. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want you, babe,” Puck said, lips brushing Kurt’s and he felt himself blush again. “Any way I can get you.”

“I love you,” he said, smiling when Puck grinned and brushed a kiss against his cheek this time. His hands slid up Puck’s chest to the back of his neck, pulling him forward and pressing his face into the crook of Puck’s neck. He breathed in deep, taking in the mingled scents of sweat and sex and Puck, and he never thought any of that would appeal to him, but a lot of things had changed since he woke up married.

Kurt laughed against Puck’s neck, and when Puck mumbled above him he pulled back to watch dark eyelashes flutter against Puck’s cheeks. For a few moments he just watched Puck sleep, his heart pounding hard in his chest and he wondered if he’d ever get used to the fact that Puck wanted him.

He leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Puck’s mouth, then he slipped out of Puck’s grip and left him sleeping in the center of Kurt’s bed. He tugged the sheet up over Puck’s waist before he headed for the bathroom to clean up, carefully washing the remnants of lube before he picked out a fresh outfit from his closet.

When he was done he considered climbing back into bed with Puck again, but he wasn’t really tired, and he knew if he woke Puck neither of them would be able to resist picking up where they’d left off. He sighed and crossed to his desk instead, gingerly taking a seat on the chair and shifting until he found a more or less comfortable position. He opened the computer and scrolled through the apartment listings Puck had already looked at, making note of the ones within commuting distance of campus.

He was so caught up in mentally decorating their potential new apartment that he’d almost forgotten Puck was still asleep in his bed when he heard the front door open and then close again. Kurt glanced over his shoulder at Puck, watching the rise and fall of his shoulders with each breath. He knew he should wake Puck and make him get dressed before anyone came upstairs looking for them, but it wasn’t as though they were _doing_ anything, at least not anymore.

So he let Puck sleep, and when a knock sounded on his door Kurt glanced at him one last time before he called, “Come in.”

His door was opening before he even answered the knock, which meant it was his father on the other side. Kurt swallowed against the rush of nerves in his stomach as his father looked in at him, raising his eyebrows as though he was surprised to find Kurt at home.

“I thought you’d be with Noah.”

Kurt glanced toward Puck before he could stop himself, and in spite of the fact that his father was standing in his doorway, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of his husband fast asleep in his bed. “I was just looking at apartment listings in Columbus while Noah sleeps.”

For a moment his father didn’t answer. He was still standing in the doorway, gaze locked on Puck and looking just as shocked as the morning he’d barged in to find Blaine sleeping it off in Kurt’s bed. Which was ridiculous, considering at the time Blaine had just been Kurt’s friend, and his father knew very well that Kurt was married to Puck.

“We’ve talked about this, Kurt. This is my house, and there are rules. This isn’t the first time I’ve walked in here to find a boy in your bed. I thought I made myself clear the last time it happened.”

“Dad, that was over a year ago, and Blaine and I weren’t even dating at the time. This is a completely different situation; Noah and I are married.”

“Listen, son, I know you boys think you know what you’re getting yourselves into here, but it’s a big step you’re taking,” his dad said, stealing another glance toward Kurt’s bed. He winced and turned back to Kurt, and Kurt felt his stomach clench at the sight of his father’s discomfort.

“We’ve talked about that too. You told me to wait until it meant something, and I did. He didn’t spend the night, so technically I didn’t break the ‘no boys staying over’ rule. Besides, Noah’s not just some boy. He’s my husband.”

“I’ve got a little experience in this department. It takes a lot more than a piece of paper to make a marriage.”

“I know that,” Kurt said, frowning over at Puck for a second before he looked back at his father. “But I love Noah, and he loves me too.”

Kurt paused, sighing and crossing his arms over his chest before he looked up again. “I realize this might be difficult for you to accept, but Noah and I are together now. I was hoping to stay here for the summer so we could save some money for the move to Columbus, but not if it means you’re going to try to keep us apart. We’re married. You can’t expect us to stay in separate houses every time we come home to visit.”

“So what are you saying here? If I don’t let your boyfriend sleep over you’re moving out right after graduation?”

“Husband, Dad, not boyfriend.”

For a minute his father just frowned at him with the sad eyes that said he felt sort of guilty, like he’d somehow caused whatever the problem was just by having Kurt in the first place. But there wasn’t a problem; Kurt was _happy_ , maybe for the first time, so he wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like crying.

“I get that you’re taking this seriously, Kurt,” his dad finally said, “but you’re still in high school, and you’re still living under my roof. A piece of paper from some Elvis impersonator doesn’t mean you get to start calling the shots.”

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, because surely his own father wouldn’t believe he could be that tacky, but before he managed more than an indignant squeak, Puck was talking.

“There was no Elvis.”

The sound of his voice surprised them both, and Kurt looked over to find Puck sitting up in his bed, knees bent in front of him and the sheet around his waist. And the presence of his obviously naked husband probably wasn’t going to help their cause, but Kurt couldn’t help smiling anyway.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have cared, but Kurt seemed pretty serious about no Elvis at the wedding, so some dude in regular clothes married us instead.” Puck shrugged, the motion dragging the sheet a little further down his hip, and Kurt felt his face heat up. “Elvis costs extra anyway.”

His dad cleared his throat and looked back at Kurt, then he glanced down the hall as though maybe he was trying to calculate how fast he could get out of there without making it obvious.

“We’re not done talking about this, son.”

His father cast one last glance in the direction of Kurt’s bed, then he pulled the door closed and left Kurt to stare at his bedroom door and wonder if his whole life was about to change a lot more quickly than he’d planned.

~

As soon as the coast was clear Puck was moving, kicking the sheet off and swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stare at Kurt. “What the fuck, babe? You said you never did it with that Dwayne kid.”

“Blaine. And I didn’t,” Kurt said, but his cheeks were red and Puck couldn’t tell if it was because he was busted, or because he was embarrassed about never doing it with the midget in the first place.

Puck rolled his eyes at the thought, because he was pretty sure that was the midget’s fault, not Kurt’s, and Puck wasn’t sure how he felt about the fact that Kurt probably would have done the guy if he’d had the chance.

“Your dad just said he caught you in bed with the dude.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, frowning right back at Puck. “How long have you been awake?”

“Long enough to know I’m not the first guy to get in your...well, your sheets, anyway,” he said.

He stopped short of accusing Kurt of letting Blaine get in his pants, mostly because he seemed pretty adamant that it hadn’t happened in the first place. But Puck couldn’t imagine sharing a bed with Kurt and not making some kind of move, even if it was just making out.

“I didn’t lie to you,” Kurt said, blushing even harder now and if he was telling the truth, maybe Puck felt a little bad about embarrassing him. “Blaine spent the night one time during junior year, before we even started dating. He got drunk at a party you orchestrated, and thanks for that, by the way, and instead of taking him home I let him sleep it off here. It was the night he kissed Rachel and became a bisexual for a whole weekend. My virtue was hardly at risk.”

“Oh,” Puck said, frowning as he tried to remember the party in question. He was pretty sure it was a game of spin the bottle that started the whole kissing thing, but Puck was already pretty drunk by then, and mostly when he tried to remember he just got flashes of Mike’s seriously fucking girlie giggle and his ear, for some weird reason.

Puck shook his head at the vague memory and stood up, then he crossed the room to pull Kurt to his feet. “I still say he’s a fucking moron, babe. No way would I have blown a chance like that.”

Granted, Kurt probably wouldn’t have let Puck crash in his bed in the first place, but that was a long time ago. Back when they were mostly still ignoring each other, before things with Lauren fell apart and Puck stopped pretending he’d never noticed the way Kurt filled out his skinny jeans. That was before he came clean with Finn about being the one to go gay -- sort of, anyway -- and it was before he started hanging around Finn’s house as much on the off chance Kurt would be around as it was to spend time with Finn.

He slid his arms around Kurt’s waist and pulled him close, and when Kurt didn’t fight him Puck grinned and leaned in for a kiss. For a few seconds Kurt kissed him back, hands on Puck’s back and tracing little patterns on his skin. Then he sighed against Puck’s mouth and pulled back to press his forehead against Puck’s shoulder.

“You should get dressed before my dad comes back in here and performs another rendition of the ‘my house, my rules’ speech he’s become so fond of.”

“Your dad’s not gonna throw you out for breaking a rule, Kurt,” Puck said, and that much, at least, he was sure of. Then again, Kurt’s dad might throw _Puck_ out, and maybe to Kurt that was the same thing.

His heart skipped a beat at the thought and he planted a chaste kiss on Kurt’s mouth. “You mind if I take a shower first?”

Kurt nodded and let go of him, and Puck resisted the urge to reach out and pull him close again. “There are towels under the sink. Everything else you’ll need is in the shower.”

It turned out that by ‘everything else you’ll need’, what Kurt meant was, ‘everything you’ll _ever_ need’. There were more bottles and jars and weird-looking sponges in there than Puck had ever seen in his life. He had a hell of a time just trying to figure out which one counted as soap, and in the end he just went with the bottle that smelled the least like some exotic piece of fruit.

He had no idea why one person would need so many different kinds of shampoo, but he figured it was just something else about Kurt he was going to have to get used to. Puck dried off and pulled his clothes back on, and when he got back to the bedroom Kurt was still sitting at his desk looking at apartments.

“Where do you want this?” he asked, holding up his wet towel.

Kurt glanced over his shoulder, but when he saw what Puck was holding his eyes went kind of watery. Over a _towel_ , like that made any sense. What made even less sense was the fact that Kurt stood up and crossed the room, gripped Puck by the front of his shirt and hauled him forward for a kiss. If he was trying to make a point it went right over Puck’s head, but before he could ask Kurt was pulling the towel out of his hand and tossing it in a tall wicker basket next to his closet.

When he turned around again he still looked kind of like he wanted to cry, but he smiled at Puck and gestured toward the laptop. “I think I found a potential apartment. It’s close to campus and it doesn’t cost a fortune, and the bedrooms are far enough apart that if Finn does move in he won’t be traumatized for life.”

Puck crossed the room to look over his shoulder at the pictures on the listing. The apartment looked pretty much the same to him as all the other apartments they’d looked at that morning, but if Kurt liked it that was good enough for him.

“It’s great, babe.”

“Of course it will depend on whether it’s still available when we’re ready to move,” Kurt said, but Puck could tell he was already kind of sold on the place. “And we haven’t even talked to Finn yet.”

“I’ll talk him into it,” Puck said, and it was kind of a big promise, but he was pretty sure he could sell Finn on the idea. “Once he gets back from his date he should be in a pretty good mood anyway.”

“Provided it went well.” Kurt closed the laptop and stood up, and when Puck slid his arms around his waist Kurt rested his hands on Puck’s chest. “Provided there was a date to begin with.”

The truth was that Puck didn’t really care what Finn was doing or who he was doing it with. They were friends, sure, but if he wanted to keep his mouth shut about whatever was going on with him, that was just fine with Puck. As long as Finn wasn’t hassling him about hooking up with Kurt, Puck was willing to roll with whatever dating disaster Finn landed himself in next, even if it was with one of their teachers.

“Don’t worry about Finn,” Puck said, lips brushing Kurt’s again. “I’ve got it covered.”

“I don’t suppose you can say the same about my father,” Kurt mumbled against his neck, and when he sighed Puck tightened his grip on Kurt’s waist.

“He’ll come around,” Puck murmured into his hair. He wasn’t positive or anything, but he figured they at least had a better shot of getting Kurt’s dad to come around than they did his mom. And if nobody came around...well, he wasn’t sure how they’d make it work without help, but they both wanted it bad enough to find a way.


	18. Chapter 18

Kurt wasn’t _trying_ to avoid his father. He was just...maximizing his time with Puck, and if it meant he didn’t see his father again until Sunday night, that was just a coincidence. He’d spent the entire day with Puck, part of it at his house, but Kurt couldn’t relax in Puck’s room with his mom right downstairs. It was worse than having Puck in his own bedroom while Kurt’s dad was home, because at least Kurt knew his father didn’t hate either of them.

The same couldn’t be said for Puck’s mother, no matter what Puck thought. And even if she didn’t hate him outright, she certainly wasn’t comfortable having Kurt around. That much was obvious from the way her shoulders tensed when she appeared in Puck’s doorway carrying an armful of laundry and found them together.

They weren’t even _doing_ anything, but that didn’t stop the color draining from her face or the way she opened and closed her mouth a few times before she asked if Kurt was staying for dinner.

“I’m afraid we have plans,” Kurt had said, then he’d kicked Puck in the ankle before Puck could ask what plans they had, exactly.

Luckily Puck caught on pretty quickly, because he waited until his mother left the room to ask what Kurt was talking about. Once she’d deposited his laundry on top of his dresser and they heard her climbing down the stairs to the first floor Puck turned to him, frowning in a confused way that would have been cute if Kurt wasn’t busy being annoyed that Puck still couldn’t see how much his own mother disliked his husband.

“Since when do we have plans?”

Kurt sighed and glanced at the computer where they’d been shopping for reasonably priced used beds before Puck’s mother interrupted them.

“I just thought it would be nice to have one parent-free day to ourselves,” he said, then he turned away from the computer to face Puck. “Frankly I’m not sure how much more family drama I can take in one weekend. But if you want to have dinner with your mother…”

“I’m cool with parent-free,” Puck said, arm sliding around Kurt’s waist to tug him a little closer on the chair they were sharing. He leaned in to open his mouth against Kurt’s neck, sucking on a spot just above Kurt’s collar until Kurt was breathing hard and squirming against him.

“Noah,” Kurt breathed, warning and plea at once, and he would have been embarrassed at the way Puck laughed against his skin if it didn’t feel so damn good.

“You have some other plan in mind for tonight?” Puck asked, the question vibrating against Kurt’s neck and sending a shiver down his spine.

The truth was that Kurt didn’t have a plan. What he _wanted_ was to forget about his father and Puck’s mother, about the disastrous wedding shower that was scheduled to happen in less than a week, about apartments and furniture and summer jobs that would keep them too busy to spend much time together over the next two months. He wanted to get Puck alone somewhere they wouldn’t have to worry about who was going to find them, and he didn’t even care what they did, as long as they were together.

But he couldn’t say any of that, not without sounding pathetically needy. Anyway there was nowhere for them to go without spending money they didn’t have – money they needed to make sure they _had_ a future – and Kurt knew in the end that whatever sacrifices they had to make now would be worth it.

“Nothing specific,” he finally answered, reaching out to catch one of Puck’s hands and slide their fingers together. “I just want…”

“What, babe?” Puck prompted when Kurt trailed off, biting his lip against the sudden fluttering in the center of his chest.

“You,” Kurt said, his whole face heating up when he realized how it sounded. “Just…us. You know?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, pulling back to look at him. His hand came up to rest against Kurt’s cheek, thumb tracing Kurt’s full bottom lip for a second before he leaned in to brush a kiss against Kurt’s mouth. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”

Wanting didn’t solve their logistical problem, however, so in the end they wound up with takeout and a blanket on the ground by the lake again. It wasn’t perfect, but the fact that it was a work night meant there weren’t many people hanging around the lake in the evening, so they had the park mostly to themselves.

Once they were finished with dinner Puck fit himself into Kurt’s side again, and this time he didn’t have to drag Kurt’s arm around his shoulders. It felt a little strange, holding Puck that way, mostly because whenever Kurt pictured himself with another man, he’d always been the one being held. But Puck seemed to want the contact, and if he was willing to ask for it, Kurt wasn’t going to turn him down.

“Noah,” he said, his hand resting at the top of Puck’s chest so Kurt could feel Puck’s heart beating against his palm, “have you thought about what you’re going to do in Columbus? If you wanted to go to college…”

Puck shrugged against him and tilted his face up a little as though he was trying to look at Kurt without actually lifting his head. “I’m not really cut out for college, babe. That’s not a deal breaker, is it? I mean, if you’re gonna leave me for some brainiac college type, tell me now.”

It was a joke, but Kurt could hear the edge in his voice, and his heart skipped a beat at the idea that Noah Puckerman would worry about Kurt leaving him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, then he turned his head so he could brush a kiss against Puck’s temple. “You’re as smart as any college student. I just meant that if you decided you wanted to go to school, we’d find a way to make it work. I don’t want you giving up your future for mine.”

When he finished talking Puck pushed up on one elbow, turning until he could plant a hand on the blanket next to Kurt’s shoulder. For a second he just stared down at Kurt, eyes dark and it was impossible to read his expression, but Kurt’s stomach fluttered anyway.

“Kurt,” Puck said, “you _are_ my future.”

It was sweet and romantic and all the things Kurt had always dreamed of when he thought about the perfect guy. But in real life it was a lot of pressure, and the gasp that escaped Kurt was borne of fear as much as it was desire. He had no idea how to live up to a statement like that, but he let Puck kiss him anyway, because the thing was, Puck was Kurt’s future too.

He still wanted school and a career and the excitement of the fashion industry, but more than all of that, he wanted Puck. He wanted to be part of _them_ , wanted to fly around the world to fashion shows knowing exactly what – _who_ – was waiting for him at home.

“Noah,” he said again, his voice catching in his throat, “I need…I need to go home.”

“Now?” Puck asked, pulling back to look at him, and it took Kurt a second to figure out why. But when he realized what he’d said he knew he meant it, and he nodded and pulled himself together enough to sit up. Puck groaned and rolled onto his back, head resting next to Kurt’s thigh and Kurt didn’t bother trying to resist the urge to reach out and run his fingers along Puck’s cheek.

“I need to talk to my father and make him understand that this is real,” Kurt answered. “Anyway, it’s a school night, and if we get in early our parents will take it as a sign that we’re capable of making mature decisions. It can only help.”

“It’s not really helping Puckzilla, babe.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at the nickname to keep himself from laughing. He leaned over Puck and planted a firm kiss on his lips, then he straightened up to look down at him. “I’ll make it up to you when we’re living together.”

At the mention of their theoretical apartment Puck’s pout disappeared in favor of a grin, and Kurt’s heart clenched hard in his chest. He traced the curve of Puck’s smile with his thumb, and when Puck’s hand caught his Kurt let him slide their fingers together.

“Fine, but don’t think I’m gonna forget just because we have to wait like two months to move.”

It took longer to get back in the car than it should have, mainly because Puck kept distracting him with hands and lips and words whispered against his neck, arms around his waist and it was hard to remember why he wanted to go home when Puck was pressed against him. Finally they got the blanket folded, takeout containers thrown away and both of them back in the front seat.

They were quiet on the way back to Puck’s house, but when Kurt pulled up to the curb Puck turned in his seat to look at him. “You sure you need to talk to your dad tonight? We could go back up to my room for awhile, give my bed a test run.”

“With your mother right downstairs?”

Puck shrugged and glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the house. “She’s gonna have to get used to it sometime.”

Kurt wasn’t entirely convinced that she’d ever get used to the idea of her son married to another man, just like he wasn’t convinced his own father was going to come around. But they had to try, and that was exactly the reason he needed to talk to his father.

“She might get used to it faster if she didn’t walk in on us giving your bed a test run,” Kurt said, smiling against Puck’s mouth when Puck leaned in to kiss him. His hand curved around Puck’s cheek, lips parted and it was even harder to say goodbye when Puck kissed him like that. He pulled away anyway, fingers tracing the line of Puck’s jaw.

“Is this because your dad caught me in your bed yesterday?” Puck asked, his hand coming up to close around Kurt’s.

Kurt felt his cheeks flush, and he was grateful for the darkness so it wouldn’t be quite as obvious to Puck that he was still embarrassed at the idea of his father knowing they were having sex. They were _married_ ; of course they were going to have sex, but he wasn’t sure he wanted his father thinking about it.

“It’s not...we just don’t talk about those things. Well, we did the one time, and it was painfully awkward and I’d just as soon not have to revisit that conversation.”

“Really? Your dad gave you the sex talk?”

Kurt scowled at Puck’s amused smirk and pulled his hand out of Puck’s. “We didn’t discuss the mechanics, if that’s what you’re thinking. He just...he wanted me to wait until it meant something. He didn’t want me losing my self-respect because of a single moment of weakness.”

He expected Puck to laugh, but instead he just nodded and reached for Kurt’s hand again. Kurt didn’t pull away a second time, and Puck smiled and lifted Kurt’s hand to press his lips to the center of Kurt’s palm.

“Miss Pillsbury said something like that in Celibacy Club. She made it sound totally lame, but that was probably what she meant.”

“When were you in Celibacy Club?”

“Last year. I tried it out for a little while, but it wasn’t really my thing.” Puck grinned when Kurt snorted a laugh, then he tugged Kurt forward until he was close enough for another kiss. “The point is, your dad’s a pretty cool guy. I mean, sex is great and all, but my mom never sat me down and told me how much better it could be if I was with somebody I really loved.”

“I imagine she assumed that ship had already sailed.”

Puck shrugged, but he didn’t look all that hurt. They both knew he had a past, after all, and it wasn’t going to go away no matter how much part of Kurt might want it to.

“Maybe. Or maybe she doesn’t even know how awesome it can be. My dad bailed on all of us a long time ago, you know? But your dad stuck around to make sure you grew up okay. He’s not gonna bail on you now just because you married me.”

As soon as he said it Kurt knew he was right; his father had stood up for him his entire life, even when Kurt didn’t necessarily deserve it. He’d been more patient than most parents would have been in his situation, he’d had countless conversations that Kurt knew still made him a little uncomfortable, and he’d sacrificed his own honeymoon to keep Kurt safe. Kurt still wished his dad could be as happy for him as Carole seemed to be, but he was trying to get used to the idea, and that was more than some parents would do for their kids.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, squeezing Puck’s hand where it was still wrapped in his.

“For what?”

Kurt smiled and brushed another kiss against his lips before he answered. “For making it mean something.”

~

When Kurt finally kicked him out of the car Puck headed inside, pausing to listen to the quiet for a second before he headed for the kitchen. The TV wasn’t playing in the living room, so Puck figured his mom had turned in early, but when he pushed open the kitchen door he found her sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her.

“Hey, Ma,” he said, frowning when she glanced up at him with a tired expression. “What are you doing?”

He crossed to the cabinet next to the fridge and pulled out a glass, then he poured some milk and sat down across from her. When he did she looked up at him, and from close up she looked even more tired.

“I’ve spent a lot of nights sitting at this table, wondering whether or not you were coming home,” she said, hands wrapped around her mug and Puck frowned and flattened his own hands on the top of the table.

“Yeah, but I told you, you don’t have to worry about me anymore, Ma. You knew where I was; I was with Kurt.”

She sighed and looked down at her coffee mug for a second, then she looked back up at him. “So do you have a plan for this move of yours?”

Puck nodded and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and ignoring the look his mother gave him. “Yeah, we figured we’d hang around here for the summer and save some money. I can clean pools and Kurt’s got a job at his dad’s garage. His classes don’t start until September, so we’ve got some time.”

His mother nodded, but the tight line of her mouth didn’t relax, and Puck knew that meant she still wasn’t on board with their plan. Then again, she’d only had a few days to get used to it, so maybe she just needed some more time.

“Listen, Ma, I was thinking maybe Kurt could crash here sometimes,” Puck said, and when she looked at him he was glad there was a table between them. “Not on, like, school nights or whatever.”

“No.”

He didn’t hear her use that voice all that often, but Puck knew what it meant. There was no chance she was going to change her mind, and sneaking Kurt in would just make it worse, even if he could convince Kurt to go for it.

“Ma,” he tried anyway, but she was already shaking her head before he even got his argument off the ground.

“I mean it, Noah. I know you’re eighteen and no matter what you think, I don’t hate Kurt. But I won’t have your sister thinking it’s okay to have boys staying over while you’re still in high school.”

“You let Quinn move in when she was knocked up.”

“She was carrying my grandchild. There’s a difference.”

“It’s not like Kurt’s just some hook-up,” Puck said, voice rising a little and he fought hard not to lose his temper. “Sarah thinks guys can’t even get married. Maybe if she saw...”

“They can’t,” his mother interrupted, and Puck’s stomach twisted at the look on her face. “Noah, you’re my only son and I love you, but this wedding you two keep talking about -- it doesn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t even stand up in court.”

For a second he just looked at her, mouth open and he knew he probably looked pretty stupid, but he couldn’t make himself care. He’d taken plenty of hits over the years, a lot of them from guys way bigger than him, but none of them made him feel like this. Like somebody had knocked the wind out of him and pulled the floor out from under him at the same time, and it took a few seconds to remember how to breathe.

“Why? Because a bunch of assholes in suits say so?”

“Watch your language,” she said, but she sounded more tired than mad. “Because that’s just the way it is. But that’s not why Kurt can’t stay here. I did a lousy job with you. I let you run wild and I didn’t put my foot down when I should have. You turned out okay anyway, and I thank God for that every day. But I’m not going to make the same mistakes with your sister.”

He still didn’t see how seeing her brother with another guy was going to mess up Sarah, but Puck had fought a lot of losing battles in the past few years, and he knew one when he saw it. Besides, it had taken Puck a few years and a whole lot of watching Kurt stand up for himself when pretty much nobody had his back to figure out that being into guys didn’t make him any less badass, so he figured his mom and his sister just needed to spend more time around Kurt before they saw what Puck did.

“Fine,” he said, shrugging when she shot him a look that said she hadn’t expected him to take it so well. “But I’m staying at Kurt’s place when we come to visit. If he can’t stay here I’m not either.”

And okay, it was kind of a bluff, because Kurt’s dad hadn’t actually said Puck was allowed to stay at his house when they were home. But Mr. H was pretty much the coolest dad Puck knew, and he wasn’t going to tell Kurt not to come home just because Puck was part of the package now.

“So you’re not even planning to visit now?” she said, her voice going a little higher and for a second Puck thought she might cry.

“That’s not what I said, Ma. We’ll still come over for Hanukkah and stuff, but I’m not sleeping here. Not without Kurt.”

Instead of answering she just nodded and went back to staring at her coffee. Puck waited a beat, then another, but by the time he lost count she still hadn’t said anything, so he pushed his chair back and picked up his empty glass. He carried it to the sink and set it in the basin, then he turned to look at the back of her head.

“Listen, do you care if we take my bed to Columbus? I mean, it’s not like I’ll be using it here, and it would be a lot cheaper than buying one. That way you can get started on turning my room into a shrine to famous Jews of Hollywood or whatever even faster.”

She let out a sigh, shoulders slumping a little and she sort of turned her head without actually looking at him. He braced himself for another argument, maybe for her to tell him that he couldn’t expect her to help them out when he was planning to leave and not come back, but all she said was, “It’s your bed.”

He nodded and headed for the kitchen door, but when he reached it he paused and looked back at her. “You’re wrong, you know. Being married to Kurt means something to me. It means something to both of us.”

He pushed the door open before she could answer, taking the stairs two at a time and closing his bedroom door before he pulled his phone out. What he really wanted to do was call Kurt, to hear his voice and maybe hear him say ‘I love you’ again. But he was probably still in the middle of a big discussion with his dad, and chances were it would last a lot longer than Puck’s conversation with his own mother.

Instead of dialing Kurt he scrolled through his contacts until he found Finn’s number, then he hit send and threw himself down on his bed. The line rang a few times, but just when Puck was thinking about giving up it connected and he heard Finn’s voice in his ear.

“Dude, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Puck said. “How was your date?”

He expected Finn to deny it, mostly because he’d been denying it since they got back from Vegas. But for a second Finn didn’t say anything at all, then he let out a deep breath and his voice got a little softer, like he was worried somebody might hear him. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t mean for it to be a date. It felt kind of like one, though.”

Puck rolled his eyes at the ceiling, because only Finn would go out on a date with a teacher and not even know what it was when it was over. “If it felt like a date then it was a date. You get any action?”

He could practically hear Finn’s blush over the phone, and picturing it made him feel a little better.

“Dude, if there was any action I wouldn’t be wondering if it was a date.”

It was a fair point, so Puck didn’t point out that Finn hadn’t gotten any action in so long that he might not recognize it if he did. He wasn’t sure when Schue last got any either, and between the two of them it might take _years_ for them to figure it out. It was pathetic, but at least he wasn’t in denial anymore.

“Listen, I called to talk to you about moving in with us next year. It’s a lot cheaper to split an apartment in Columbus three ways, and Kurt found a place where the bedrooms are far enough apart that we won’t even have to keep it down all that much.”

“What, you mean, like, live with you guys?” Finn asked, and Puck rolled his eyes again and sat up.

“That’s what I just said. It’ll be easier to get Mr. H on board if you move in. And it’ll be cheaper than the dorm.”

He wasn’t actually sure about that last part, but what Finn didn’t know probably wouldn’t hurt him. He was always worried about how his mom and Kurt’s dad were going to pay for both of them to go to college, so if he thought an apartment was cheaper, he wouldn’t even need that much convincing to get on board.

“And Kurt’s cool with this?”

“Dude, it was his idea,” Puck lied, because he figured the chances of Finn actually checking were pretty slim. “Of course he’s cool with it. You’re his brother. Which makes you my brother-in-law, so technically we’re family.”

“Huh,” Finn said, and Puck could picture his confused expression. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So are you in or what?”

“Yeah, I mean I’ll...uh...I’ll think about it,” Finn said.

“Good. Don’t take forever, Kurt’s totally sold on this one place already, and we need a third to swing it. Besides, if you have your own place it’ll be less weird when your new boyfriend comes to visit. At least you don’t have to explain to me and Kurt how you met him when he showed up to teach your freshman Spanish class.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Finn said, and Puck could hear him blushing again.

“Call it whatever you want, dude. Everybody knows Schue’s just been waiting for you to go gay.”

He hung up before Finn could answer and dropped the phone on the bed next to him. Finn would come around before long, just like Kurt’s dad. Puck let out a breath and ran his hands over his face. _Somebody_ had to come around soon, because it wasn’t like they had a plan B.


	19. Chapter 19

Kurt found his dad in the kitchen. He was sitting at the table with a pile of papers spread out on the table, a calculator at his elbow and a smudged ledger book open in front of him. Kurt sighed and set his bag down, then he slid into the chair across from his father.

“Dad, if you’d just let me help you put all this in the computer, it would be so much easier to keep your books.”

“This is how I’ve always done it,” his father said, glancing up from the receipts he was sorting to look at Kurt.

“I know, that’s what you say every time we discuss it. But that doesn’t mean the shop wouldn’t benefit from a little change.”

They’d had this argument enough times that Kurt wasn’t surprised when his dad just shook his head and turned back to his receipts. Kurt watched while he wrote a few more numbers in the ledger, then punched some keys on his ancient calculator and wrote down the total. When he was finished he shut the ledger and gathered the papers into a pile, pushing them to the side and reaching for the cup of decaf sitting in front of him.

“Something on your mind, son?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Noah,” Kurt said, his heart pounding a little harder in his chest.

“What about him?” his dad said, as though he didn’t already know. As though he wasn’t the one who’d said the conversation wasn’t over in the first place.

Kurt took a deep breath and brushed a hand over the front of his shirt, glancing down at the imaginary wrinkles before he forced himself to look up at his father again. And he knew he was stalling, but the truth was he didn’t really know how to start the conversation. He wasn’t sure what to say to convince his father that they were serious, and even if his dad did believe him, Kurt wasn’t positive he’d let Puck spend the night.

“I realize our relationship probably seems rather sudden.”

“You could say that,” his father said, and Kurt felt his cheeks start to heat up. “You’ve gotta give people a little time to adjust here, Kurt. A week ago you two weren’t even dating. Most people get to know each other a little before they get married.”

“You’re right,” Kurt said, and when his dad raised his eyebrows Kurt smiled and gave him a small shrug. “I’m willing to concede that things have moved quickly with Noah, and I know there’s a chance that it won’t work out. But we both really want it to, and we’re willing to make the effort to see that it does.”

His dad nodded and looked down at his coffee for a few moments, then he looked up at Kurt again. “I’m sure you do, son.”

“But you don’t think we can.”

“That’s not what I said,” his dad answered, then he let out a sigh and Kurt tensed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I just think you boys have a lot of growing up to do yet, and it’s not easy to do that when you’re already committed to one person. You haven’t experienced that much of what’s out there, Kurt. Neither of you have. Sometimes life takes people in different directions, no matter how much they want to stay together. What happens if a couple years down the road you two figure out you can’t make it work?”

Kurt shrugged again, ignoring the way his chest tightened at the thought. “Then I get my heart broken. But you can’t protect me from that, Dad, no matter how much you might want to.”

His dad smiled, a little sad around the edges and this time Kurt’s heart clenched for a completely different reason. “You know, you’re starting to sound a lot like Carole.”

“She said you were having trouble letting me grow up.”

This time when his dad smiled it was genuine, and when he let out a little laugh Kurt smiled back at him. “She’s a smart woman. It’s tough, watching your kid grow up. You’re starting to make a lot of choices without asking what your old man thinks, and that’s a pretty big pill to swallow.”

“I’ll always value your opinion, Dad,” Kurt said, and if his voice caught in his throat a little, it was just because it had been a long day and he was tired. “It’s just that I have Noah to consider now too.”

His dad nodded again, just looking at him for a few seconds before he answered. “You know, your mom and I weren’t that much older than you boys when we got hitched. I gotta tell you, I was scared out of my mind.”

Kurt smiled at the image of his parents, young and in love and preparing to spend the rest of their lives together. It still hurt to think about his mom, and he guessed it always would, but Kurt sort of liked the idea of having this in common with both of them.

“I admit that I’m a little nervous about the idea of living with Noah. Not the…physical part,” he added when his father cleared his throat, blushing at the prospect of revisiting the sex talk. “It’s just that I’ve never actually _lived_ with anyone before.”

“You’ve put up with me for plenty of years,” his dad said, shrugging when Kurt frowned at him. “And you adjusted to having Finn and Carole around pretty fast. If you moved into the dorm you’d have to figure out a way to live with a total stranger, and there aren’t any guarantees you’re going to get along with some kid you’ve never even met before. At least you know you like Noah already.”

Kurt knew he was right, but it didn’t do all that much to settle the fluttering in his stomach at the prospect of sharing a home with Puck. Sex was one thing; that much they already had down, but the little day-to-day details were a different story. Still, Puck had already proven he could be thoughtful, and as long as they were both willing to compromise, they’d probably be okay.

“We were thinking about asking Finn to move in with us,” Kurt said. “We’d save on rent if we split an apartment three ways instead of two, and it would probably be cheaper for you and Carole than paying room and board on campus.”

“You sure Finn’s going to go for that?” his dad said, his expression telling Kurt that he had his doubts. And a few weeks ago Kurt might have agreed, but it turned out that somehow Finn had gotten used to the concept of two guys together while Kurt wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t sure if it was the result of living under the same roof as Kurt or if it had something to do with the bizarre crush he seemed to have developed on Schue, but Kurt wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Noah seems to think he can convince him.”

His father nodded as though that were a perfectly reasonable assumption. And Kurt supposed it was; Finn and Puck had been friends for a long time, after all, and in a lot of ways Puck probably knew Finn better than he knew Kurt. But even if they hadn’t been what anyone would call friends, Kurt and Puck had known one another for years now, and Kurt was just starting to understand how well Puck really did know him.

“So you’re okay with us living together?” Kurt asked, and it surprised him how much it mattered that they had his dad’s blessing.

“It’s not really my call,” he answered, shrugging and leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “Look, son, you’re an adult now, and I’m not going to try to tell you what to do, because I know you won’t listen anyway. Noah’s a good kid, and it’s obvious he cares about you. That’s enough for me.”

“What about him staying over?”

That got him a heavy sigh, then his dad dropped his head and rubbed at the back of his neck, and when he looked up again he looked older somehow. “I can’t tell you not to have sex either, and I’m not dumb enough to think you’d listen to me if I did. But I can’t have your…Noah sleeping here while you’re still in school.”

“And after we graduate?”

“We’ll talk about it then,” his dad said, and Kurt didn’t push it, because he knew from years of dealing with his father that the best way to get a definite ‘no’ was to push for an answer before his dad was ready to give one.

“I suppose that’s fair,” Kurt said. He chose to ignore the fact that his father still couldn’t bring himself to refer to Puck as Kurt’s husband. It was a lot to accept, after all, and Kurt was starting to realize that if they wanted their parents to be patient with them, they needed to extend the same courtesy. “I meant what I said about us coming home to visit, though. I won’t stay here without my husband.”

His dad didn’t answer right away, and the longer the silence stretched out, the more Kurt’s stomach tied in knots at the idea that his father might put his foot down about them sharing a bed under his roof. And maybe it was a lot to ask, but in a couple months they’d be living together, and it seemed silly to pretend they weren’t sleeping in the same bed every night just because they were back in Lima.

“You boys are always going to be welcome here,” his dad finally said. “I can’t promise it’s not going to take awhile to get used to the idea of you being married, but I want you to know you can always come home. Both of you.”

Kurt blinked against the sudden stinging in his eyes, then he swallowed hard and nodded. “I know. Thanks, Dad.”

“I love you, son. Nothing’s going to change that. Can’t say I’m real happy about you eloping, though. I always figured when you got married, I’d at least be invited.”

“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Kurt said, blushing all over again at the hazy memory of his wedding ceremony. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Not that I married Noah, but I’m sorry you weren’t there.”

His dad nodded and pushed his chair back, then he stood up and carried his coffee cup to the sink. Kurt watched him rinse it out, then put it in the dishwasher before he turned around again.

“It’s still a school night,” his dad said, then he crossed the room to stop next to Kurt, his hand coming up to rest on Kurt’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, son. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The hand on Kurt’s shoulder squeezed briefly, but when Kurt nodded he let go. A second later his dad was gone, and Kurt swallowed a sigh and stood up to follow him out of the room.

~

Ever since they got back from Vegas, Kurt had been driving Puck to school. It wasn’t a big deal or anything, but he kind of liked seeing Kurt first thing in the morning, before they even got to McKinley. Granted, it wasn’t like they had any privacy, because Finn was usually riding shotgun when they got to Puck’s house, which meant he had to kick Finn out of the front and kiss Kurt right in front of his brother.

After the first day Finn stopped complaining about the free show, mostly because Kurt reminded him that if he didn’t like it he could ride the bus. So Puck didn’t bother checking the urge to lean across the arm rest and pull Kurt into a kiss on Monday morning. And yeah, they’d just seen each other like ten hours ago, but ten hours felt like a long time when he was sleeping alone.

“Morning,” Kurt said when Puck finally let him up for air, his cheeks kind of pink and a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Puck grinned back at him, then he settled back into his own seat and reached for his seat belt. Once he’d buckled up he glanced into the back seat at Finn, laughing at the matching blush he was sporting. “So you decide yet or what?”

Finn shrugged and looked at the back of Kurt’s head. “Yeah, I mean I guess that would be cool, as long as Kurt’s really okay with it.”

Kurt glanced at him in the rear view mirror, then he looked back at the road. “I told Dad last night that you were going to split the rent with us, so you don’t really have a choice.”

Puck watched Finn’s eyebrow go up, then Kurt smirked at him and Finn blushed even harder. “Yeah? Burt was cool with that?”

“An apartment’s more economical than the dorm,” Kurt answered as he turned into the parking lot outside the school. “With two of us in college they’re going to welcome the chance to save money wherever they can.”

“Babe, that reminds me,” Puck said as Kurt found a spot and killed the engine. “Ma says we can have my bed.”

“Oh?” Kurt unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face him, cheeks still a little pink and Puck really wanted to reach out and touch. “What about coming home to visit?”

Puck shrugged and leaned back against the door, glancing out the windshield toward the school for a second before he answered. “She’s not exactly down with us staying there together, and I told her I’m not staying there by myself.”

And the thing was, his mom’s reaction kind of took him by surprise. He’d never expected her to care much what he did or who he did it with; as far as he knew she’d never cared all that much before, unless she was yelling at him for getting in trouble. She cared what happened with Beth, but she didn’t seem to care much whether or not he and Quinn ended up together. She never even met Lauren, and she’d never had anything to say about any of his string of hook-ups.

So he didn’t really expect her to care that he was finally with someone who wanted him back, but he didn’t expect her to be dead set against it, either. And yeah, okay, she hadn’t come right out and said it or anything, but it had sure seemed that way last night. Puck frowned at the memory of their conversation, and when Kurt frowned right back at him he figured he wasn’t doing that good a job of acting like it didn’t bother him.

“Noah,” Kurt said at the same moment Finn said, “Wait, if I move in with you guys what am I going to do for a bed?”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he didn’t look away from Puck when he answered. “We’ll discuss logistics later.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Finn. Get out of my car.”

Finn looked at Puck, his mouth opening and closing a time or two, but when he caught sight of Kurt’s glare, he winced and climbed out of the back seat. The door slammed shut, and Puck looked out the windshield in time to watch Finn take a few steps away from the car, then glance over his shoulder at them.

“Babe, he’s not going to be cool about splitting the rent with us if you piss him off.”

“He’ll get over it,” Kurt said, waving a hand like it didn’t matter. And Puck knew Kurt wasn’t going to tell Finn he was sorry or anything, but he figured maybe Kurt was right. Finn had dated Rachel _and_ Quinn, after all, and they were both at least as high-maintenance as Kurt, so he was probably used to it.

Kurt reached across the console and closed his hand around Puck’s, fingers threading together and Puck wanted to laugh when his heart skipped a beat.

“What happened with your mother?”

As soon as Kurt mentioned his mom Puck scowled, looking out the window so he wouldn’t have to see Kurt’s expression when he told him.

“It’s no big deal,” he lied, because the truth was, it was a bigger deal than Puck wanted it to be. “I asked if she cared if you crashed at my place sometimes, and she said no, because she didn’t want us being a bad influence on Sarah. Then she said the wedding wasn’t real because we’re both guys.”

“Are you all right?” Kurt asked, and he sounded so worried about it that Puck did laugh this time.

“Yeah, babe,” he said, lifting the hand that was still wrapped in his and pressing his lips to the base of Kurt’s thumb. “I mean, yeah, it sucks that my mom’s not on board, but it’s not like she’s right. I was there; I know our wedding was real.”

“Maybe she just needs more time to get used to the idea,” Kurt said, but he didn’t sound much like he believed it. “She might come around yet. You kept saying my dad would come around, and he did.”

“Oh yeah?” Puck said, shifting a little closer to Kurt, and he knew they were probably going to be late for their first class, but he didn’t really care. “When’d that happen?”

“Last night. He said we’re both welcome to stay with them when we come home to visit. And he said we could revisit the question of overnight stays once school’s over. He doesn’t want you sleeping over while we’re still in school, but I’m sure he’d reconsider if you and your mother are having problems.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I mean, it’s not like she threw me out or anything.” Puck reached out with his free hand and closed it around one of the weird strap things crisscrossing Kurt’s shirt, tugging until Kurt leaned across the console to meet him. “Besides, you know if Mr. H says I can crash on your couch, I’ll just end up sneaking into your room, and when he catches us he’s not going to be so cool about summer.”

Kurt looked like he wanted to argue, but they both knew Puck was right, so in the end he just sighed and nodded. “Okay. But if things get too tense, you can come stay with us. My dad and Carole would both be fine with it.”

“Babe, it’s not like she’s staging an intervention or something,” Puck said, laughing when Kurt frowned at him. “So she’s not that cool with us getting hitched. That’s her problem.”

It _was_ her problem; it sucked, sure, but it didn’t really change anything. Not for Puck, anyway, and not for Kurt either. They still loved each other, and they were still going to stick together, no matter what their parents or anybody else thought. So either his mom would get over it or she wouldn’t, and there wasn’t a lot Puck could do about it while she made up her mind.

“We should get inside,” Kurt said, but he didn’t sound much like he meant it. Puck glanced at the school again, watching the last few students head inside and calculating just how late they’d be if they got out of the car right now. Just a couple minutes, probably, not even enough to land either of them in detention.

“We could blow off first period,” he said, flashing a hopeful grin in Kurt’s direction as he nodded toward the back seat.

Right on cue Kurt blushed again, then he frowned and shook his head. “At the very least we’d get detention, and if we get caught out here we’ll get suspended. My father’s never going to reconsider his stance on overnight stays if we start getting in trouble during our last month of high school.”

It was a good point, but that didn’t make it any easier to climb out of Kurt’s car and follow him toward the school. They were almost to the stairs when the late bell rang, and when Kurt tensed and picked up his pace, Puck reached out and closed a hand around his arm.

“Noah, we’re late,” Kurt said, but he let Puck pull him away from the steps.

“Relax, babe, they don’t give you detention for a couple minutes.” Puck leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth, and when Kurt murmured another _Noah_ against his cheek, he turned his head to kiss Kurt for real.

It took Kurt a second or two to relax against him, but finally he did, his hand sliding around the back of Puck’s neck and holding him close. His fingers stroked the back of Puck’s head right at the base of his scalp, sending little shivers of want down Puck’s spine. He groaned against Kurt’s mouth and pulled back just far enough to take in the sight of blue eyes blown darker than usual, pushing back into Kurt’s hand and letting out a shaky laugh when Kurt tried to pull him close again.

“Thought you wanted to get to class.”

“You know that’s not what I want,” Kurt answered, then he leaned in to press one last chaste kiss against Puck’s lips before he reached for his hand to pull him toward the doors. It wasn’t what Puck wanted either – not even close – but they were together, and as far as Puck was concerned, that was good enough.


	20. Chapter 20

Kurt cornered Finn at his locker after lunch. He scanned the crowd of student bodies in the hallway for a sign of Puck, but so far he was nowhere to be seen. When Kurt was sure the coast was clear he took a deep breath and turned back to Finn, hands gripping the strap of his messenger bag while he waited for Finn to look up from whatever science experiment was going on in his locker.

“I need a favor.”

It took a few more seconds for Finn to look at him, but when he did he was wearing that expression that told Kurt he was still upset about being kicked out of the car. Kurt rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated breath, then he leaned a little closer and lowered his voice.

“Fine. I’m sorry if you felt I was rude this morning, but Noah’s going through some things with his mother, and I needed to speak to him privately.”

“You could have just said so, you know,” Finn said, but he looked slightly less like a kicked puppy as he swung his locker shut. “So what do you want?”

“I need you to talk Schue out of reporting us for skipping Glee.”

“Why are you skipping Glee? And what makes you think Schue’s going to listen to me?”

He at least had the good sense to blush when Kurt fixed him with an exasperated glare, but he was fidgeting as though Kurt had asked him to distract Schue with his tongue or something. Not that it was the worst idea in the world, but Kurt wasn’t going to say so out loud.

“Please, you know as well as the rest of us that you’re the only one Schue _does_ listen to. Besides, it’s not as though we’re doing anything in Glee now that Nationals is over. I just think it would be good for Noah and I to spend a little time alone together, and it’ll be easier if we can leave school a little early and get a head start on any parents coming home.”

Finn blushed even harder at that, which told Kurt that he understood perfectly well what Kurt meant by ‘a little time alone’. But Finn shrugged and looked down the hall in the direction of the Spanish classroom, scanning the hallway as though he was hoping to catch a glimpse of Schue.

“Okay, I’ll try. But he might not even listen to me.”

“He will,” Kurt assured him, flashing an encouraging smile when Finn glanced down at him.

And okay, he felt a tiny bit guilty for taking advantage of Finn’s crush. Or Finn and Schue’s mutual admiration society. Whatever was going on between them -- and Kurt honestly didn’t want to know -- he felt a little opportunistic using the situation for his own ends, but if it got him some uninterrupted time alone with his husband, he was willing to make the sacrifice.

Kurt waited until just before Glee to let Puck in on his plan. He knew if he brought it up before then Puck would just try to talk him into leaving school even earlier, and Kurt wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to say no. So he bided his time, and after their second to last class of the day he gathered his things from his own locker and then went looking for Puck.

He didn’t have to look hard; as soon as Kurt closed his locker and looked down the hall, he spotted Puck walking toward him. Kurt smiled and tugged his bag a little higher on his shoulder, weaving his way through the crowd in the hall until he reached Puck.

“Babe,” Puck said, stopping in front of him and reaching out to rest a hand on Kurt’s waist, “You’re headed in the wrong direction. Glee’s that way.”

Puck nodded in the direction of Kurt’s locker, and Kurt smiled a little brighter and took another step forward. “But my car’s this way.”

“What about class?”

Kurt shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to make sure Mr. Schuester wasn’t headed down the hall to drag them to Glee. “What time does your mother come home?”

“Around six. She has to pick up my sister from our Nana’s and then she usually stops and gets something for dinner. Why?”

“Finn’s getting Schue to cover for us, so I thought, if we have time, we might go give your bed that test run.”

Puck raised an eyebrow and pulled him even closer, leaning in and Kurt tilted his chin up when Puck’s mouth landed on his neck. He knew he should be worried about some teacher catching them and giving them detention for ignoring the late bell to make out in the hall, but it was hard to think when Puck was sucking at the tender skin just behind Kurt’s ear.

“Not my bed, babe,” he said, the words warming Kurt’s skin and sending little shivers down his spine. “ _Our_ bed.”

Kurt’s only answer was a contented hum, and when Puck laughed Kurt smiled and pushed him away.

“Shall we?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and holding out his hand. Puck grinned and grabbed it to pull Kurt toward the front door of the school.

“Hell, yeah.”

“You’re sure your mother won’t be home early,” Kurt said when they reached his car. He slid the keys into the ignition before he looked over at Puck, heart beating too fast at the sight of Puck leaning back against his seat, legs planted wide apart and just watching Kurt.

“Relax,” Puck answered, but he was grinning, and when he leaned forward Kurt let Puck pull him into a kiss. “She’s at work. We’ve got at least a few hours.”

Kurt nodded, hand resting on Puck’s cheek and lingering for a few seconds before he pulled back and reached for his seat belt. He drove them to Puck’s place as fast as he dared, which wasn’t as fast as he would have liked, but the last thing they needed was to get pulled over while they were skipping class.

They reached Puck’s house without incident, but Kurt still glanced nervously down the street while he waited for Puck to unlock the front door. When his mother didn’t appear out of nowhere to ask what they thought they were doing Kurt managed to relax a little, and when Puck dragged Kurt into the house he took a deep breath and closed the door behind them.

“Seriously, Kurt, relax,” Puck said, his fingers hooked through the leather straps crisscrossing Kurt’s chest. He tugged Kurt close and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering until Kurt relaxed and let out a sigh against his mouth. “That’s better.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he let Puck lead him upstairs, down the hall to the room Kurt had been in a few times now, but only while Puck’s mother was in the house. And he wasn’t nervous about being alone with Puck, but it was hard not to worry that this would be the one day when Puck’s mother would leave work early.

Still, Puck didn’t seem worried, and this was supposed to be about making him feel better, so Kurt did his best to push aside thoughts of his mother-in-law and concentrate all his energy on Puck. On Puck’s mouth moving along his jaw, Puck’s fists clenching and unclenching around the leather at Kurt’s chest as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the straps. Kurt smiled and reached up to pull Puck’s hands away, then he unfastened the straps and let them fall down over his hips.

“Nice,” Puck murmured, pulling back far enough to grin as he reached for the buttons on Kurt’s shirt. “Kinky. I mean, I’ve seen you in the bondage gear before, but it’s even hotter watching you take it off.”

“It’s not bondage gear,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and flattening his hands against Puck’s chest to push him backwards onto the bed. “It’s fashion.”

Puck snorted a laugh and leaned back on his hands, legs planted wide apart and just watching while Kurt finished unbuttoning his shirt. He left it open but didn’t take it off; instead he reached for the button on his pants next, sliding it free and then easing his zipper down.

He still wasn’t entirely used to Puck looking at him, the way his eyes roamed over Kurt’s body as though he was _worth_ looking at, or the way his lips parted just a little when Kurt slid his zipper down. But this was about Puck, about taking his mind off the fact that his mother didn’t approve of them, and more than that, it was about reminding Puck of why this was worth upsetting her in the first place.

So he let Puck look, and when Puck reached down and tugged his t-shirt over his head, Kurt didn’t try to stop himself from looking back. He let his gaze wander down Puck’s chest, watched the way his muscles rippled under the skin stretched across his stomach, and the way his biceps flexed when he reached out to pull Kurt closer. Kurt’s hands landed on Puck’s shoulders, tracing the curve of his neck and angling his head just so when Kurt leaned in to kiss him.

Puck’s hands slid under Kurt’s shirt, pushing the fabric off his chest and then over his shoulders until Kurt was forced to let go of him long enough to get it off. When his shirt hit the floor Puck’s hands landed on his hips, and Kurt barely managed to gasp a breathy, “Wait,” before he shoved Kurt’s pants down.

“What?” Puck asked, but he let Kurt pull out of his grip.

“Shoes,” Kurt answered as he toed them off and kicked them out of the way, then he slid his pants down to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor. When he looked at Puck again he was pulling his own shoes off, then tossing them to one side before he stood up to wriggle out of his jeans.

“Do you even _own_ any underwear?” Kurt asked, and when Puck smirked and sat down on the edge of the bed again Kurt rolled his eyes.

“Why, you got a problem with easy access?”

Kurt shook his head and took a few steps forward, stopping when he was standing between Puck’s legs. A pair of strong hands slid up the backs of his thighs, Puck’s fingers sliding under the legs of his boxer briefs and sending a shiver down Kurt’s spine.

“There’s no problem,” Kurt answered. His hands came up to rest against Puck’s cheeks, thumb tracing his bottom lip until Puck’s mouth opened and sucked the tip of Kurt’s thumb between his teeth. His tongue teased the pad of Kurt’s thumb, teeth scraping against his skin and making Kurt’s cock twitch.

Kurt sucked in a shaky breath and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Puck’s forehead, then to each of his eyes. When he reached Puck’s mouth his lips parted, Kurt’s thumb sliding free so Puck could press forward and kiss him hard. His thumbs hooked in the waistband of Kurt’s underwear, sliding them over his ass and down his thighs to join the rest of their clothes on the floor.

“Noah,” Kurt murmured against his mouth, “please tell me you have a condom somewhere in your possession.”

Puck huffed a laugh against his mouth and gripped his hips to push Kurt backwards, then he stood up and crossed the room to pull open the top drawer of his dresser. He reached inside and closed his hand around what Kurt hoped was a condom, then he shut it again and turned around.

“I picked some up before my mom banned sex from the house.” He crossed back to Kurt and slid an arm around his waist, pulling him close and reaching behind him to drop condom and lube on the bed. “I keep my underwear in that drawer too.”

Kurt laughed when Puck grinned, cheeks flushing as he steered Puck toward the bed. “Seems like a waste of real estate if you’re not even going to wear them.”

“So we’ll ditch the underwear and keep the sex toys in there instead.”

“In your dreams,” Kurt said as Puck pulled him down onto the mattress, arms around Kurt’s waist to pull him close.

“Babe,” Puck said, “I can dream bigger than that.”

Kurt let out a soft laugh and slid his hand down Puck’s back to curve it around his ass. “I know.”

Puck laughed against his mouth, lips parted and Kurt slid his tongue past Puck’s teeth and pressed even closer. When they finally came up for air Puck was on his back, Kurt sort of sprawled across his chest and pulling back to look down at him. Puck pushed a hand between them to grip Kurt’s dick, stroking slowly until Kurt’s hips were moving in time with his hand.

“You wanna do me?” Puck asked, thumb sliding across the tip of Kurt’s cock and dragging a gasp out of him.

The answer was _yes_ , and _please_ and maybe even _are you kidding?_ , but what Kurt said was, “If that’s what you want.”

And he meant it; he wanted to give Puck what he wanted – whatever he wanted – so Puck would know exactly how far Kurt was willing to go to prove how much he cared. He wanted to make Puck feel the way Kurt felt when they were together, when Puck pushed inside him and wrapped his arms around Kurt and made him feel _wanted_ for the first time in his life.

Puck let go of him long enough to reach above them, then he pressed the lube into Kurt’s hand. He wasn’t smiling anymore; in fact, he looked a little nervous, but he looked sort of determined too. Kurt closed his hand around the lube without letting go of Puck’s hand, then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Puck’s mouth.

“I love you, Noah,” he said when he pulled back again, and Puck took a deep breath and reached up with his free hand to push his fingers through Kurt’s hair.

“I love you too, babe.” He tugged Kurt close, leaning up to press a hard kiss to his lips before he pulled back again. “So fuck me already.”

Kurt snorted something like a laugh and let go of Puck’s hand, flipping the cap off the lube and pouring some on his palm with fingers that only shook a little. He pushed up onto his knees, using his free hand to shove at Puck’s hip until he took the hint and rolled onto his stomach.

The sight of Puck stretched out in front of him, muscles flexing across his back and his legs spread to let Kurt kneel between them made Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. Puck was…perfect, every inch of him, from his broad shoulders to the hands that fit perfectly around Kurt’s, to the way he kissed Kurt like he wanted to make sure Kurt remembered it every single time.

It was difficult to believe that Puck trusted him – that Puck _wanted_ him – enough to do this with him, but Puck was twisting his head to look back at him, eyebrows raised as though he was wondering what the hold-up was. Kurt leaned in and brushed a kiss across Puck’s shoulder, hand sliding down his back to rest against his ass again.

He felt a shiver roll through Puck at the contact, so he pressed another kiss to the center of Puck’s back this time, then another one at the base of his spine. His fingers slid between Puck’s cheeks as he made his way down Puck’s back, the tip of his middle finger just brushing Puck’s opening and when he felt Puck tense Kurt leaned up to whisper near his ear.

“If you want to stop, all you have to do is say so.”

Puck shook his head and looked over his shoulder at Kurt again, and Kurt didn’t try to resist the urge to kiss him.

“Then just relax.”

~

Puck was trying to relax. It wasn’t like he was nervous or anything; this had been his idea, after all. But this was the first time he’d just laid there, head down and eyes closed and let somebody else do all the work. It was the first time he’d just laid there and _felt_ , and it was the first time he’d let somebody else have that kind of control.

Even with Lauren it had always been sort of a fight for control, and yeah, it was kind of hot that she was willing to go toe to toe with him, but she’d never tried making Puck feel comfortable enough to give in. She’d never seemed to care much how Puck felt period, at least not when it came to making out.

Kurt cared; that much he was sure of. He cared about making sure Puck knew exactly how he felt, and he cared about making Puck feel _safe_. Maybe he didn’t even know it, but he managed to pull it off anyway, and that was the reason Puck was stretched out on his bed and waiting for Kurt to make his next move.

Kurt’s finger teased his hole again, slick and sort of warm and Puck felt his legs open a little more, like his body knew what it wanted even if his brain wasn’t so sure. And his body had always kind of known what to do, so Puck went with it, spreading his legs to give Kurt more room and hissing when he felt the first press of Kurt’s finger inside him.

A hand pressed against his back, warm and soft and stroking along his skin like maybe Kurt was trying to get him to chill. So he tried; Puck took a deep breath, then another one, and before long the finger inside him stopped feeling so weird. He pushed back a little, just to see what would happen, and Kurt’s finger sank in a little further. It was still kind of weird, but Kurt took Puck’s dick without complaining, and that was a lot bigger than his finger, so Puck bit down on the urge to complain when Kurt pulled his finger halfway out and then pushed it back in again.

“Noah,” Kurt said, hand still stroking his back as he twisted his finger a little, “you need to breathe.”

Puck took a deep breath when he realized he’d stopped at some point, then he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into the comforter and focused on relaxing around the finger still buried inside him. His own dick had sort of lost interest around the time he started worrying about how huge Kurt’s finger felt inside him -- his _finger_ , and Puck had no idea how he was supposed to fit something bigger in there -- but when he finally managed to relax enough to let Kurt bury his finger as deep as it would go, Puck moaned and pushed back against the sensation.

“Okay?” Kurt asked, and Puck wanted to laugh, because he sounded pretty worried that Puck might back out.

“Yeah, just...more lube, maybe.”

Kurt’s finger disappeared and Puck bit down against another moan. He hadn’t really been expecting to miss being filled up like that, even if it was just a finger, but as soon as it was gone he felt sort of empty. Puck looked over his shoulder in time to watch Kurt flip the cap on the lube, then he poured a little more on his palm and rubbed it around on his skin before he reached for Puck again.

“Better?” he asked, his finger sinking into Puck easier this time, and Puck nodded and pushed back into Kurt’s touch.

“Yeah,” he said again, his breath kind of shallow, like he’d been running sprints on the football field. His hips were rocking back against Kurt’s hand before he even realized it, pushing back for more and when Kurt’s finger twisted again Puck sucked in a sharp breath.

“Jesus,” he murmured, and when Kurt said, “What’s wrong?” Puck shook his head and pushed back against his hand.

“More,” he said, but when Kurt reached for the lube he closed his hand over Kurt’s. “No, babe. Just...more.”

Kurt nodded like _he_ was the one with his ass in the air, and he sounded pretty calm, but it was pretty obvious by the way his head kind of jerked up and down that he was anything but. Puck’s cock started to take notice again, and when a second finger pushed inside him to join the first, Puck moaned low in his throat and rocked back against Kurt’s hand to bury his fingers all the way inside.

The burn was kind of intense, but it felt pretty good, too, like when somebody sucked hard enough on his neck to drag the blood to the surface, to leave a mark that would stick around for days, just to remind Puck that somebody wanted him enough to claim him. Kurt’s fingers weren’t going to leave a mark other people could see, but Puck would be able to feel it tomorrow, and the burn every time he slid into his chair at school would remind him just how much Kurt wanted him.

Kurt still hadn’t touched his dick, but it was hard again, and Puck moaned when he bucked against the sheets and pushed up onto his knees. He heard Kurt scramble up behind him, fingers still buried inside him and twisting every so often to drag another moan out of Puck.

And it didn’t feel awesome, exactly, not like burying his dick in Kurt’s tight heat and leaning over him to kiss Kurt while Puck fucked him. But Kurt’s fingers were inside him, and when he felt the burn tomorrow he’d remember Kurt’s hands on him and Kurt’s voice asking if he wanted to stop. That thought was enough to make him want even more, probably before his body was really ready for it, but Puck looked over his shoulder anyway to find Kurt watching him.

“Fuck me already,” he said, pushing the words out through gritted teeth. He sounded a lot more pissed than he meant to, but if it bothered Kurt he didn’t say. Instead he pulled his fingers free again and reached for the condom, sliding it down his own dick and then pausing with his hands on Puck’s hips.

“Are you sure you’re ready?”

“For fuck’s sake, babe,” Puck said, voice choked and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Either way he got his point across, because a second later he felt something hard and slick pushing against his entrance, and he’d never really thought of Kurt as huge or anything, but it sure as hell felt like it when Kurt’s cock was pushing inside him.

Puck pressed his forehead to the mattress, fingers curling around the comforter and biting down hard on his lip to hold back a groan. Kurt pushed inside him slow, like he was scared to move too fast, and Puck was pretty sure he was going to die before Kurt ever got all the way inside. He was pretty sure he was going to die before he stopped feeling like Kurt was splitting him in half, but just when he thought he couldn’t take any more the tight ring of muscle gripping Kurt’s cock loosened just enough to let him slide a little further inside.

Puck moaned and pushed back against him, and it still hurt, but it felt kind of good too. He felt _full_ , even more than when Kurt first pushed a finger inside him, and he wasn’t sure if he was rocking back to get more, or rocking forward to get a little relief from the stretch. Either way Kurt moved with him, and before long the burn eased enough to let Puck appreciate the feeling of Kurt sliding in and out of him.

“Fuck,” he murmured, and “Kurt” and “more,” over and over until Kurt was thrusting kind of wild against him, fingers digging into his hips and letting out little grunts with each thrust. Puck huffed a breathless laugh, because if Kurt could hear himself Puck was pretty sure he’d be blushing. But he was way too far gone to know how he sounded, because of _Puck_ , and that was hot enough to make Puck thrust back just as hard against him.

And it still kind of hurt, but it felt fantastic too, and Puck knew it would be even better if he could see Kurt’s face when he came. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder, taking in Kurt’s pink cheeks and the way he was biting down hard on his lip.

“Babe,” he said, voice sort of breathy and it didn’t sound anything like him, “look at me.”

Right on command Kurt’s eyes opened, and when Puck collapsed onto the mattress Kurt slipped out of him. He flipped onto his back and pulled his knees up to his chest, then Kurt was sliding back inside him, leaning over him and pressing their lips together.

“Noah,” Kurt murmured against his mouth, then “I love you,” like Puck didn’t already know. But he liked hearing it anyway, so he just leaned up to kiss Kurt even harder, tongue fucking his mouth in time with the thrusts of Kurt’s hips.

He rocked up to meet each thrust, dragging Kurt deeper inside him and flexing hard around his cock, over and over until Kurt was panting and tensing above him and moaning Puck’s name as he came. Puck could feel Kurt’s arms shaking where they were braced on either side of him, like maybe Kurt was having trouble holding himself up. He reached up and ran his hands along Kurt’s arms, then around his back to pull him down until he was sprawled across Puck’s chest.

The movement made Kurt slip out of him, and Puck moaned at the loss and turned his head to press hot kisses on every part of Kurt he could reach. Which was mostly the side of his face and the top of his neck, and when Kurt lifted his head Puck expected Kurt to press their lips together.

Instead Kurt pulled away completely, climbing off him and leaving Puck hard and frowning at the sight of Kurt’s pale back as he pulled the condom off and dropped it in Puck’s trash can. When he was finished he didn’t come right back to bed; instead he crossed to Puck’s dresser and reached into his drawer for another condom, and Puck felt his own dick twitch in spite of the fact that he was pretty sure he couldn’t take any more.

But when Kurt climbed back onto the bed he swung a knee over Puck’s thighs, then he closed his hand around Puck’s dick and stroked a few times. Puck closed his eyes and focused on the feel of Kurt’s hand on him, Kurt’s thumb teasing the head of his cock with each upstroke. When he heard the sound of foil tearing he opened his eyes again, grinning at the sight of Kurt Hummel opening a condom wrapper with his teeth.

Then Kurt slid the condom down Puck’s dick and he stopped grinning, mostly because he had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to keep from coming just from that. He watched while Kurt poured some more lube in his hand and reached behind him, shoving two fingers in his own ass and gasping at the sudden intrusion. Puck wanted to grab his hips and pull Kurt down into his dick, to bury himself in tight heat and come inside Kurt just like Kurt had come inside him.

Instead he let Kurt take the lead again, hands on Kurt’s thighs and stroking the soft hairs there as he waited for Kurt to get himself ready. And it wasn’t the first time Kurt had climbed on top and ridden him, but it was starting to be Puck’s favorite view in the whole world, and he wasn’t in any hurry for it to be over. He’d been hard for awhile, though, and it had been two days since they did this last, so as soon as Kurt lined himself up and sank down onto Puck’s cock he knew he couldn’t last long.

“Babe,” Puck said, then, “you’re so fucking hot,” and when Kurt let out a choked little laugh and started moving a little faster, Puck moaned and thrust up to meet him.

His hands were on Kurt’s hips, pulling Kurt almost all the way off and then dragging him back down again, and now that Puck knew how it felt to have someone else inside him, watching Kurt fuck himself on Puck’s dick was even hotter. Watching Kurt take control was hot, because it meant Kurt wanted Puck enough to get over all his own hang-ups and take what he wanted.

Puck reached up to close a hand around the back of Kurt’s neck, stretching up as he dragged Kurt forward to meet him in a breathless kiss. He held Kurt there as Puck rocked up into him, breathing hard against his mouth and rolling his hips every so often to drag a gasp out of Kurt.

He was hard again, which was no surprise, so Puck reached between them to close his hand around Kurt’s dick, fisting him hard in time with Puck’s thrusts.

“I gotta come,” Puck said, still rocking up into him and he wasn’t sure when he started asking fucking _permission_ , but when Kurt nodded and kissed him again and said, “I want you to come inside me,” he did.

Just like that, like all Kurt needed to do was say so. Which was close enough to the truth that Puck wasn’t planning to think too hard about it, so instead he stayed buried inside Kurt and kept jerking him off, his whole body shuddering every time Kurt flexed around his spent cock.

Kurt’s back was arched, neck stretched long and pale and there was a time when Puck would have wanted to mark him. There was a time he would have wanted people to know he’d been here, to show whoever Kurt moved on to next that Puck was there first. But he didn’t have to prove anything anymore, because it was just them for the rest of their lives, and Puck didn’t have to mark him to let people know Kurt was his.

He reached out and caught Kurt’s left hand, thumb sliding along the ring Puck put on him just over a week ago, and as soon as he did Kurt murmured his name and came for the second time. This time Kurt didn’t even try to hold himself up, and when he slumped over Puck’s chest Puck felt himself slip out of Kurt. The sense of loss wasn’t quite as intense as when Kurt pulled out of him, but he felt it anyway, and he flexed his ass to feel the burn that reminded him Kurt had been there.

It took Kurt awhile to catch his breath, but when he did he pushed himself up to look down at Puck, the metal of his ring warm against Puck’s skin when Kurt’s hand curved around his cheek. For a minute he just looked, and Puck sort of expected to hear another ‘I love you’, but in the end Kurt didn’t say anything. Instead he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Puck’s mouth, then he slid off Puck and pulled the condom off him as carefully as he could.

He climbed off the bed again to toss it, and Puck closed his eyes and listened to Kurt moving around his room. A second later the mattress dipped and Kurt slid back down next to him, pressing his whole body along Puck’s side. Puck grinned and lifted an arm to slide it around Kurt’s shoulders, letting Kurt press his cheek to Puck’s bare chest.

“So?” Puck asked, raising an eyebrow when Kurt looked up at him.

“So what?”

Puck gave him an exaggerated eye roll he didn’t really mean and slid his hand into Kurt’s hair. “So what do you think about the bed?”

“Oh.” Kurt frowned at him for a few beats like he was really considering it, then he shrugged and settled back down to rest his head on Puck’s chest again. “It’s perfectly acceptable. As long as it comes with you in it, I don’t really care.”


	21. Chapter 21

It was the day before the shower when Kurt finally found the time to finish Puck’s gift. It didn’t even take that long; he already had the picture and the frame, so all he had to do was put the whole thing together and wrap it. But between spending time with Puck and fielding Finn’s panicked questions about what he’d need in order to share an apartment with them, Kurt didn’t have any time to himself until Friday.

Even then he had to hurry, because Puck never stayed away for long, especially when they didn’t have school to worry about the next day. So Kurt hurried home after their last class and dug in his closet until he found the frame and their wedding photos, then he settled down on his bed with the Windex and a roll of paper towels and carefully cleaned the glass.

Once he was positive there wasn’t a single streak left behind, Kurt set the glass back in the frame and took the picture out of its protective envelope. He set it in the frame and replaced the backing, then he flipped it over and smiled at the image of the two of them laughing together on their wedding night.

It was hard to believe the picture was only taken two weeks ago. Kurt remembered his life before he and Puck became ‘Kurt and Noah’, of course, but it was hard to imagine a time when he didn’t love everything about Puck. It was hard to imagine a time when he barely registered Puck’s existence beyond the fact that he was Finn’s best friend and that he occasionally hung around in their kitchen, drinking all their milk and snacking on leftovers as though he belonged there.

As it turned out, he _did_ belong, but until Puck grinned at him and said, “Okay, what the hell, let’s get married,” Kurt never would have imagined that Puck would belong to _him_.

He wouldn’t have predicted the way Puck made him feel, safe and loved and _wanted_ in a way that Kurt had never felt with Blaine. In many ways their relationship was everything he’d ever dreamed of and thought he’d have to leave Ohio to find, and it scared him more than a little to think that he could have found the perfect guy so young. That he could have found the perfect guy right in his own hometown, in the person of someone Kurt used to despise.

He’d stopped actively hating Puck around the time he joined Glee, but until recently Kurt hadn’t given him much thought at all. They’d had an unspoken truce of sorts for a couple years now which mostly consisted of them ignoring each other’s existence, and Kurt had thought they were both fine with that. Knowing that Puck wasn’t as straight as he’d pretended to be for so long was hard enough to wrap his mind around, but knowing that Puck had been interested in Kurt for awhile now…well, that one was pretty hard to believe.

Still, he’d proven it over and over again, and perhaps it was a little naïve, but knowing Puck loved him made Kurt feel like they could conquer anything. They could survive scraping by through four years of college, they could survive occasional separations when Kurt had to travel for work, they could even survive whatever growing pains Puck was going to go through while he decided what to do with his life.

Kurt smiled down at the picture again, admiring the way the frame flattered the image and imagining how good it would look in their bedroom. _Their_ bedroom, in their apartment, with their bed and their dishes and their towels to fight over. Kurt cleared his throat against the sudden tightness there, setting the picture down and reaching for the gift wrap he’d picked up the last time he went shopping.

He wrapped the picture carefully, making sure each crease was perfect before he taped it down. Chances were Puck was the type to tear through gift wrap without even bothering to admire the work that had gone into making the gift look fabulous, but that was no reason not to take the time to do the job right.

When he was satisfied that the paper was exactly right, Kurt reached for a silver ribbon and tied it carefully around the package, fluffing the ends of the bow until it looked pretty, but not feminine enough to get him any complaints. Kurt smiled at the end result, then he set it aside and reached for the envelope that held the rest of their wedding pictures.

He’d tucked the card he bought for Puck in the envelope last weekend, and he shook the contents out onto the bed and flipped through the pictures until he spotted the card. Right underneath it was a sheet of paper folded in thirds, and Kurt blinked when he realized he hadn’t looked at their marriage license since that first morning when he showed it to Mercedes and the rest of the girls.

He set the card aside and reached for the folded sheet of paper, running his finger along the edge before he unfolded it and scanned the words “Clark County Marriage License”. It was signed by the county clerk, and the seal of the state of Nevada at the bottom of the form. Kurt smiled as he ran the tip of his finger over the messy ‘Noah Puckerman’ scrawled at the bottom of the page, but when his gaze drifted to his own signature he gasped and pressed his hand over his mouth.

His eyes filled with tears and he blinked against the sudden stinging, frowning down at the paper for another moment before he dropped it and dug through the mess on his bed for their wedding certificate. He found it at the bottom of the pile, the words “State of Nevada Wedding Certificate” mocking him from the top of the card stock. It was signed by the man who’d performed the ceremony, and Sam must have agreed to be their official witness, because his name was scrawled across the center of the form.

Noah’s name was printed in the appropriate place, black letters standing out in sharp contrast to the white paper. And there was Kurt’s name under his, printed exactly the same way it was on the marriage license. Kurt’s heart sank as he set the certificate down next to the marriage license, and when he blinked this time he felt a tear roll down his cheek.

Kurt sniffed and reached up to wipe at his eyes, his heart pounding hard at the thought of having to break the news to their families. They’d have to tell Rachel too, and when the front door slammed and he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, Kurt knew he’d already run out of time before he’d have to tell Puck.

Right on cue Kurt’s bedroom door opened, and Kurt looked up in time to watch Puck’s grin fade. “What’s the matter?”

Kurt shook his head, searching his mind for the right words to tell Puck just how colossally he’d messed up. He had no idea how to say it, but even if he did have the right words, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get them out around the lump in his throat.

Before he found his voice Puck was sinking onto the mattress next to him, arms sliding around Kurt’s back and pulling him close, and Kurt sniffled and pressed his face into Puck’s shoulder.

“Noah, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”

~

Puck tried not to take it personally when Kurt ditched him after school. Usually when Kurt dropped him at home, he came in and hung out for awhile, mainly because there was less chance of any family members hanging around when they got to Puck’s house than there was at Kurt’s. But Kurt wasn’t crazy about the idea of running into his mother, and Puck couldn’t really blame him, considering, so he didn’t try that hard to change Kurt’s mind when he said he needed to go home for awhile and then kicked Puck out of his car.

He chilled in his room for awhile, put his iTunes on shuffle and opened a browser window. On Tuesday during Computer class he’d gotten Rachel to show him how to log into their shower registers so he could see what people were buying them; she’d said it was tacky, but then she showed him the checklist she’d made to track who’d already ordered something and who needed a Rachel-style reminder, so he figured it didn’t really matter if he looked every once in awhile.

They knew about the coffee maker, and the last time Puck checked he saw that Mike and Tina had ordered some of their dishes. Kurt was pretty stoked that somebody had bought the sheets he was jonesing for, and Puck didn’t see what the big deal was about sheets, but Kurt had promised to show him when they got their hands on them, so he was keeping an open mind.

The registry didn’t tell him who bought the sheets; all it said was ‘in-store purchase’, but Kurt figured Brittany had organized some kind of pool with Artie and Santana and maybe Mercedes. It made sense, especially considering how much the damn things cost. Puck knew none of their friends were going to drop that kind of cash on them, even if they were the first ones to get married.

It was too late to do anything about the people who were too cheap to buy them anything, but Puck figured it couldn’t hurt to check the list one more time. It gave him something to do, anyway, at least until it was safe to head over to Kurt’s house without getting yelled at for showing too early.

There were a couple new things marked off the list; Sam bought them a blender, though Puck still wasn’t sure why they _needed_ a blender. Still, it would come in handy for mixed drinks if Kurt and Finn decided to maximize their college experience by throwing a party or two, so maybe Kurt was just covering all their bases.

He scrolled down the list, expecting to see maybe a few more dishes added to the ‘purchased’ column, but when he got to the expensive stuff at the end he stopped and scrolled back up a little. “Damn,” he muttered, leaning a little closer to the screen to make sure he wasn’t having some kind of flashback thanks to all the weed he smoked during his first couple years of high school.

He blinked a few times, then he rubbed his eyes, just to make sure, but the box next to the fancy set of pots and pans Kurt registered for still said ‘in-store purchase’. It wasn’t as expensive as the coffee maker Kurt’s dad sprang for, but it was still way too steep for any of their friends to buy, even if they did pool their cash. There was a chance Mrs. H talked Kurt’s dad into springing for the pots and pans too, because whether he wanted to admit it or not, they all knew Kurt was pretty spoiled.

The coffee maker had cost a lot, though, and it was hard to buy that even Kurt’s dad would come around that much in less than a week. Puck couldn’t think of any other likely suspects, though; Finn had promised that Schue would come through with a good present, sure, but even if Finn turned the flirting up to eleven Puck was pretty sure Schue wouldn’t go _this_ far.

He shut down the computer and grabbed his keys, glanced at his phone and considered texting to ask if it was cool to come over, then decided against it. Chances were Kurt was already getting as antsy as he was, which meant he’d be glad to see Puck when he showed up.

It wasn’t much of a walk, and when he got there and saw Mrs. H’s car in the driveway he wasn’t even all that disappointed. Sure, it meant there was no chance of getting Kurt out of his skinny jeans before his folks got home, but Puck liked just hanging out at Kurt’s house. He’d liked it before he and Kurt hooked up, and he liked it even more now that he got to hang out _with_ Kurt instead of just hanging around Finn’s room and hoping Kurt would put in an appearance.

Finn’s mom let him in, her cell phone pressed to her ear and he could tell she was talking to Rachel about last-minute shower stuff, because he could hear Rachel’s voice coming through the speaker. Mrs. H smiled at him and pointed toward the second floor, and he waved a thanks and took the stairs two at a time to Kurt’s room.

When he got there he expected to find Kurt surrounded by eight kinds of wrapping paper and a bunch of frilly ribbons, still trying to decide on the perfect look for Puck’s present and bitching Puck out for coming over way too early. What he didn’t expect to find was Kurt sitting in the middle of his bed with their wedding pictures spread out in front of him and tears running down his face.

“What’s the matter?” he said, but he wasn’t really surprised when Kurt just shook his head and cried harder. He was pretty sure it wasn’t something he’d done, though, because Kurt wasn’t pissed at him when he dropped Puck off at his house. Thanks to Kurt he knew what to do this time, so he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed next to Kurt, dragged him forward into a hug and didn’t complain when Kurt pressed his snotty face against Puck’s shoulder.

“Noah, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault,” Kurt mumbled into his shirt, and it took a second or two for Puck to figure out what he’d said, but when he did he pulled back to look at Kurt.

“Hold up, babe. What’s your fault?”

Kurt sniffled again and Puck congratulated himself on being such an awesome husband that he didn’t let go even when Kurt was all snotty. His lips were pressed together and he looked kind of pissed, but Puck was still pretty sure Kurt wasn’t pissed at _him_ , so he kept holding on and waited for Kurt to spit out whatever was bothering him.

“Though I don’t see how they could have let this happen, really. Surely they’re paid to notice these things; it’s their livelihood, after all.”

“Kurt, seriously, would you just tell me what the problem is?”

Kurt sighed and leaned around Puck to pick up something from the pile of wedding pictures, then he straightened up and held it out. “It’s all right here.”

“Our marriage license? What about it?” Puck asked, scanning the paper before he looked up at Kurt again.

“Look at my signature,” Kurt said, then he bit his lip and that was distracting enough to make Puck want to push him down onto the bed and kiss him until he forgot whatever was bugging him. But he had a feeling Kurt wouldn’t go for it, so instead Puck looked down at the marriage license again.

He remembered signing it, his own signature scrawled across the top line. He remembered handing the pen to Kurt, too, remembered the way Kurt’s hand had closed around his and the way Kurt leaned in to kiss him slow before he let go of Puck long enough to sign. After that Puck hadn’t paid attention to much except the way Kurt kept looking at him, so he didn’t notice until Kurt pointed it out that he’d signed their marriage license ‘Kurt Hummel-Puckerman’.

Which, okay, technically hadn’t been true at the time, but it was now. Puck kind of liked the look of it, anyway, and even if he knew better than to say so, it was pretty cute that Kurt had been so pumped about marrying him that he’d taken Puck’s name before they even made it official.

“Babe,” he said, looking up at Kurt again, “would you really change your name?”

Kurt blushed and let out a breath that told Puck he’d missed the point somehow. “What does it matter? The point is that they were right.”

“Who?”

“My dad, your mother, Figgins…everyone. You realize that there were only three states in the country that would have recognized our marriage to begin with. _Three._ And now, thanks to me, we’re not even legally married in Rhode Island.”

Puck wasn’t even sure where Rhode Island was, exactly, but he assumed it was one of the three states Kurt was so worked up about. But Puck wasn’t planning to move to Rhode Island or anywhere else, and as far as he knew Kurt wasn’t either, so he still didn’t get what the problem was.

“Yeah, but what’s any of that got to do with us, babe?”

“Our marriage license is invalid, Noah. I didn’t sign it with my legal name, and that idiot at the wedding chapel didn’t bother to do her job and verify our signatures.” When Puck just stared at him Kurt sighed, then he rolled his eyes and wiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand. “It means we’re not really married.”

“What? That’s bull, Kurt. I was there, and so were you. Maybe you don’t remember the ‘til death do us part’ bit, but you still said ‘I do’. That makes us married.”

Kurt shook his head and pulled the marriage license out of Puck’s hand, then he reached for something else on the bed and held it up. “Look, my name’s printed wrong on the wedding certificate too. As much as I obviously enjoyed the idea of being your husband even before it happened, my enthusiasm cost us what little legal standing we did have.”

This time it was Puck who rolled his eyes. He pulled the marriage license and the wedding certificate out of Kurt’s hands, then he set them down on the pile of pictures next to Kurt’s knee. When they were safely out of the way Puck turned back to Kurt, reaching out and cupping Kurt’s cheeks to wipe away a few stray tears with his thumbs.

“I get what you’re saying, babe, but it doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Kurt asked, his face starting to do that weird crumpling thing that made Puck want to drag him close and hold on until whatever was bugging him went away. “What do you think your mother will say when she finds out? And what about all those people who bought gifts for the shower? We’ll have to send them all back.”

“Wait a second, nobody’s sending anything back,” Puck said, frowning at the thought of giving up all their presents just because Kurt was a little drunk on their wedding night. “The whole reason I came over here was to tell you someone bought those pots and pans you wanted. Do you really want to send those back?”

“Who?” Kurt said, sniffling again and sitting up a little straighter, and yeah, he’d figured that would get Kurt’s attention.

“I don’t know, whoever it was went to the store,” Puck answered. “Look, Kurt, the point is that we both stood up in front of the dude in the suit and said we’d stick together, right? Do you feel any less married?”

Kurt shook his head and sniffled again, and Puck didn’t bother trying not to smile. “Me either. So what does it matter what some piece of paper says?”

For a second Kurt just looked at him, cheeks kind of pink and splotchy and his eyes still watery and red. It wasn’t his best look, but Puck had signed on for the ‘better or worse’ part too, and he figured maybe this was sort of what it meant.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” Kurt finally answered. “But…”

“But nothing. We’re married, end of story. So would you quit crying already? I love you and all, but I’m not that crazy about making out with you when you’re covered in snot.”

Kurt laughed and leaned forward again, forehead pressed against Puck’s shoulder and just breathing for a second before he climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Puck heard him blow his nose, then the water running and a couple minutes later Kurt came back looking a little less like a leaky faucet. He let Puck pull him back down onto the mattress, arms sliding around his waist to pull Kurt close and kiss him for real.

Puck took his time, tongue sliding along Kurt’s bottom lip and when Kurt sighed against his mouth Puck took the in. He planned on making sure Kurt remembered exactly why he’d married Puck in the first place, and if Puck had to keep reminding him until he got it through his thick skull, that was no problem at all.

When he finally let Kurt up for air Kurt pressed their foreheads together, hand resting at the back of Puck’s neck and tracing the edge of Puck’s mohawk with his fingertips.

“So we just don’t tell anyone?” Kurt asked. “We just let everyone think our marriage is valid, and hope it never becomes an issue?”

Puck shrugged and pressed forward to kiss him again, then he pulled back and reached for the hand that was wearing his ring. “Our marriage is totally valid, babe. I mean, we can tell them if you want, but what’s the point? We can always wait until you’re done with school and get married again. We could go back to Vegas, or we could just get married here. That way we can invite our folks. It still won’t be legal, but we’ll get a legit wedding certificate out of it, right?”

Kurt nodded and reached for the marriage license again, staring down at it for a few seconds before he looked up at Puck. “This was never valid anyway. I’m pretty sure they just do it for show; the state of Nevada doesn’t issue marriage licenses to same sex couples.”

Puck let out a breath and reached up to rub at his temples and didn’t tell Kurt that all this legal stuff was starting to give him a headache. It sucked, and it was bullshit that they had to go through all this just so three states they were never going to live in would consider them married, but if it was what Kurt wanted, Puck would do it.

“So does that mean you’re really going to use my name?” Puck asked, grinning when Kurt blushed again.

“Only if you’re planning to hyphenate too. And we’d have to go through the process of getting our names legally changed.”

Which meant more legal bullshit in their future, but Puck had a feeling it would be worth it. He tugged Kurt forward again, brushing a kiss against the corner of his mouth, and when Kurt sighed and kind of leaned into him, Puck wrapped his arms around Kurt’s shoulders to pull him close.

“Whatever you want, babe.”


	22. Chapter 22

Kurt woke up earlier than usual on the morning of the shower, a tight knot of something that felt an awful lot like guilt gnawing at the pit of his stomach. He looked to the empty spot on the other side of the bed, sighing and wishing all over again that Puck could have stayed. But he knew better than to push his father when they’d just formed a sort of truce regarding his relationship, and complaining that he shouldn’t be forced to wake up alone on the morning of his wedding shower wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

He swallowed against another stab of guilt and got out of bed, going through his morning routine on autopilot. By the time he finished moisturizing and stumbled downstairs for some coffee Carole was already in the kitchen, a box of what he could only assume were party favors on the table in front of her.

At the sight of them he flinched and turned toward the coffee maker, mumbling a ‘good morning’ in response to Carole’s, “Morning, hon.”

“Did you sleep okay?” Carole asked, and Kurt looked up from the coffee maker and sighed at her concerned expression.

“Not particularly.”

“Something on your mind?” she asked as she watched him pull out a chair and sit down across from her. “Not nervous about the shower, I hope? Your friends just want a chance to celebrate with you and Noah.”

“It’s not that.”

Kurt sighed again and took a fortifying sip of coffee before he looked up at her. He’d spent most of the night going back and forth about this with Puck, trying to decide if keeping their mouths shut constituted a lie. Puck insisted it didn’t, that they’d both meant the words when they said them, and that made it as real as any other marriage. It sounded so good when he put it that way that Kurt _wanted_ to believe it, but sitting across the table from his stepmother, watching her tie tiny white ribbons around little mesh bags, he couldn’t help feeling guilty again.

“You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for this shower,” he said, frowning at the box of favors over the top of his coffee cup.

“It’s no trouble, Kurt, it’s for you and Noah.” When she smiled it felt a bit as though she was twisting the knife, and Kurt knew that wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t help thinking it anyway. “Besides, if I’d left it all to Rachel who knows what you’d have ended up with.”

He smiled in spite of himself, and when Carole grinned at him he couldn’t help laughing. “Believe me, I’m grateful for the intervention. I saw the invitations she sent out.”

“Don’t thank me yet. She asked for copies of your wedding photos; I think she’s starting you a scrapbook.”

Kurt shuddered at the thought and wrapped his hands a little more firmly around his coffee cup. “I’m sorry you and Dad couldn’t be there.”

“I know, honey. Your dad told me you talked,” she said, smiling up at him from yet another fiddly little bow.

“Noah wants to have another ceremony when I’m done with school. So we can invite our families.”

Carole’s whole face lit up at that, and Kurt felt yet another stab of guilt in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, Kurt, that’s a wonderful idea. And of course, whatever I can do, I’m happy to do it. After all, you planned my entire wedding.”

Kurt smiled at the memory; he really had done a wonderful job with his dad and Carole’s wedding, and the thought of getting to plan his own wedding was kind of exciting, even if he was…well, sort of married already. As soon as the thought occurred to him Kurt’s smile faded, and he set his coffee carefully on the table in front of him before he looked up at her again.

“The thing is, we sort of have to get married again.”

“What do you mean?”

Kurt shrugged and looked away, his cheeks flushing and he wasn’t going to cry about it again, but he had to swallow against the tightness in his throat anyway. “It’s a silly technicality. They printed my name wrong on the wedding certificate.”

For a second Carole didn’t answer; she finished tying the little white bow on the last of the favors, straightening it until it was just so before she dropped it in the box with the others. “Oh, that.”

“You knew?” Kurt asked, frowning as he tried to remember when he’d even shown her the wedding certificate.

“I wasn’t being nosy, I swear. It was just that Rachel wanted me to scan some of the wedding photos for her, and the certificate was in the envelope with them. I thought it was sort of cute, to be honest. It was sweet that you used Noah’s name before you even exchanged vows. I’m sure he was thrilled.”

“But it invalidates our entire marriage,” Kurt said. “Even the few states that would have acknowledged it don’t have to now.”

Carole let out a sigh and reached across the table, taking his hands in hers and giving him one of those watery smiles he was starting to get used to. “Oh, honey. I know it’s important for you to feel just as married as any other couple, and you should have that. I’m sorry I can’t get that for you, and your dad is too, no matter what you might think.”

Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it again when she squeezed his hands and shook her head. “Hear me out. I have faith that you’ll have that legal wedding within your lifetime, even here in Ohio. But you and Noah exchanged the same vows as any other married couple, and you made the same promises to each other, so it doesn’t matter if some piece of paper says it’s true. It doesn’t make you any less married.”

Kurt smiled and told himself his eyes were only stinging because he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “That’s what Noah said when I told him. I thought maybe he just didn’t want to cancel the shower and give back all the gifts.”

Carole smiled and let go of his hands, then she stood up and picked up the box. “Noah grew up with just one parent like you and Finn. The difference is that his father left them and never looked back. I think if anybody understands what it means to make a commitment, it’s him.”

She took a few steps forward, stopping next to him and dropping a kiss on his forehead. “I promised Rachel I’d get these to her before the guests start arriving. I’ll see you there, okay?”

Kurt nodded and reached for his coffee, listening to the front door open and then close again. He was still staring at his cup without really seeing it when he heard someone walk into the kitchen, and he looked up expecting to find Carole coming back for something. Instead he found Puck walking toward him, and before Kurt could do more than open his mouth to ask what Puck was doing there so early, he was being pulled to his feet and kissed.

His arms slid around Puck’s shoulders, fingers stroking the soft hair at the base of Puck’s scalp. Puck made a funny little humming noise against his mouth and pulled him even closer, arms tight around Kurt’s waist and practically lifting him off his feet.

“Hi,” Kurt said when they came up for air, his voice a little breathy and his cheeks pink for a different reason this time.

“Hey,” Puck said, hands sliding up Kurt’s sides and then back down again. “Mrs. H let me in.”

“It’s early. I didn’t expect to see you until later.”

“Yeah, I wanted to give you one of your wedding presents before the party. I figured it would go over better without an audience.”

He let go of Kurt long enough to reach into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope and holding it out. Kurt reached for it, sliding it out of Puck’s grip before he glanced up at Puck again. Puck who looked sort of…nervous, and Kurt’s stomach twisted at the thought of what could be inside.

He had no idea what to expect, but turning the envelope over to find it already open wasn’t it. “What is this?”

“Just read it,” Puck said, and when Kurt hesitated he rolled his eyes and took the envelope back. He opened it and took out what looked like two sheets of paper, then he unfolded them and held them out. Kurt took them with shaking hands, scanning the contents of the first page before he flipped to the second page.

When he finished he looked up again, frowning at Puck for a second before he looked back at what appeared to be lab results. “Is this…?”

“You told me to get tested. The first page is all the curable stuff, and the second page is AIDS or whatever.”

“HIV.”

“What?”

“They screened you for HIV,” Kurt said, then he shook his head and scanned the page again. “It doesn’t matter. All of these are negative.”

“Yeah. That’s good, right?”

“Of course it’s good,” Kurt said, letting out an exasperated breath as he folded the results and handed them back to Puck. “For the love of…you scared the hell out of me, you jerk. The way you were acting I thought you were going to tell me you were dying.”

Puck shrugged and shoved the test results back in the envelope, then he folded it in half and shoved it back in his pocket. “I thought you might think it was kind of a lame present.”

“It’s not lame,” Kurt said. He took a step forward and slid his arms around Puck’s neck again, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss against his lips. “Thank you.”

Puck smiled for the first time since he’d appeared in Kurt’s kitchen, hands on Kurt’s ass to slide them into his pockets. “So is your dad home?”

“He went into the shop for a couple hours, I think,” Kurt answered, raising an eyebrow when Puck’s grin got a little brighter. “I’m sure he’s avoiding as much of the shower preparations as he can. Why, did you have something in mind?”

“Thought you might want to give your wedding present a test run,” Puck said, backing toward the entrance to the kitchen without letting go of Kurt. “Since we’ve got a little time to kill before the party.”

“I could be persuaded,” Kurt answered, then he let Puck drag him up the stairs to his room.

~

The best part about being married, Puck figured, was the sex. Not that he’d ever had much of a problem hooking up before Kurt, but readily available sex with somebody he knew was still going to want him around after? That was way better than getting kicked out before someone’s husband or boyfriend or mom came home. It was a lot better than hooking up in a bathroom or a locker room, and once they moved in together they wouldn’t have to worry about anybody’s parents getting bent out of shape about walking in and finding Puck in Kurt’s bed.

So maybe _that_ was the best part of being married; he liked that Kurt wasn’t always trying to hustle him out of the house before his dad got home, that he wasn’t ashamed for people to know they were together. He didn’t pull his hand out of Puck’s when they got to Rachel’s house, even though they were running late by the time they finally got back out of bed, so most of their friends were already there to watch them walk in together.

If anything, when they walked in and got a look at the blue and white steamer explosion, Kurt gripped his hand a little harder. Puck squeezed right back, grinning when Kurt looked over at him and leaning in to whisper close to his ear. “Just think about the presents.”

“We already know what everyone got us.”

“Not all of it,” Puck said. “Who knows what Schue bought, and we still don’t know who the pots and pans are from. Anyway, you still haven’t given me my present.”

“I’m afraid it’s going to pale in comparison to what you gave me this morning,” Kurt answered, his ears going kind of pink, but he was smiling, so Puck leaned in and brushed his lips across Kurt’s cheek.

“That’s the gift that keeps on giving, babe.”

Kurt snorted a laugh and squeezed his hand again, then he took a deep breath and turned back to the party already going on at the bottom of the stairs. “I suppose it’s too late to make a break for it.”

As soon as he said it Rachel spotted them, and Puck cringed at the pitch her voice hit when she screamed their names across the room. Before either of them had time to react she was on them, shoving what looked like black baseball caps toward their chests.

“I am not wearing this,” Kurt said, holding the cap away from him, like maybe he thought if he touched it for too long some of the tacky would rub off. And okay, they were pretty stupid; she’d had ‘groom’ printed across the front of them in white, like anybody at the party didn’t know exactly why they were here.

“I knew we should have gone with the top hats,” Rachel said, frowning at Kurt for a second before she whipped out something else and held it up. “Here. It’s the best I can do on short notice.”

Kurt handed back the baseball cap and held up what looked like a long strip of fabric, white this time with ‘groom’ printed in big, black letters across both sides. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s this or the hat,” Rachel said in that voice that told everybody who knew her that she meant it. And Puck knew from experience that Rachel could wear down even the strongest guy with her voice alone, so he pulled on the baseball cap and watched while Kurt rolled his eyes and then slid the fabric strip thing over his head.

As soon as they both looked as dumb as she could manage she smiled, nodding like she’d just decked them out in fancy designer suits instead of cheap party store accessories. “Perfect. Now why don’t you two mingle with your guests while we wait for everyone else to arrive.”

“A sash,” Kurt said once she was safely out of earshot. “I can’t believe she’s making me wear a _sash_.”

“She’d probably let you switch back to the hat,” Puck said, laughing when Kurt narrowed his eyes. He slid an arm around Kurt’s waist anyway, dragging him close and reaching up with his free hand to turn his own cap backwards before he planted a kiss on Kurt’s lips. “Gets in the way, though.”

“You look like a townie,” Kurt said, and Puck had no clue what that meant, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a compliment. But he didn’t really care, because Kurt was sliding his arms around Puck’s neck and kissing him back, and yeah, it was a lame party and all, but if they got to spend it making out, Puck wasn’t complaining.

As soon as he thought it Kurt was moving away from him, and Puck opened his eyes to watch Mercedes and Tina dragging Kurt off him.

“We’d tell you two to get a room, but you probably would,” Mercedes said, rolling her eyes and sliding an arm through Kurt’s. “It’s a party, you guys. You can’t just spend the whole thing making out.”

“Why not?” Puck asked, but they were already dragging Kurt away, toward the cluster of girls on the far side of the room. A second later he was surrounded so completely Puck could barely even see him, and when he felt a hand land on his shoulder Puck frowned and looked up.

“Chicks,” Finn said, and Puck nodded.

“That’s why I don’t bother with them anymore, dude.” For a second Finn just looked at him, then he nodded and kind of blushed a little, and Puck laughed and scanned the room. “Speaking of, where’s your date?”

“I keep telling you, he’s not my date.”

“Right, just like your last date wasn’t a date,” Puck said, grinning when Finn turned even redder than Kurt. “Hey, I’m down with the man love. Like I said, just don’t get busted until grad. It’s bound to fuck up your whole vibe if he gets fired for tapping your ass.”

By the time he finished talking Finn’s whole head looked like a tomato. Even his scalp looked kind of red, and Puck knew if Kurt overheard him he’d be in trouble. But Kurt was still trapped in the circle of chicks over on the other side of the room, talking about whatever it was chicks talked about. Nail polish or dresses or comparing the size of their boyfriends’ dicks, maybe, and Puck had shared a locker room with all their boyfriends, so he knew for a fact Kurt would win that contest every time.

He grinned again and clapped Finn on the shoulder. “Chill, bro. Nothing wrong with a little cougar action. What do they call it when it’s an older dude, anyway?”

Finn opened his mouth, then closed it again just as quick, and Puck glanced over his shoulder in time to watch Finn’s mom walking toward them. For a second she just gave Finn kind of a funny look, then she shook her head and turned to Puck. “Noah, your mother’s here. I thought you might like to show her in. Finn, go with him and carry in her gift, will you? It’s a little heavy.”

“My mom’s here?” Puck said, frowning and glancing toward the stairs that led down to the Berrys’ Oscar room where sure enough, his mother was standing and looking about as freaked out as Puck expected. “I didn’t even know she was invited.”

“Of course she was invited, Noah, she’s your mother,” Finn’s mom said. She put a hand on his back and shoved him toward the stairs, and Puck cleared his throat and crossed the room.

“Hey, Ma,” he said when he reached her. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Carole called,” his mother said, which was pretty much all the explanation she seemed to think he needed. “There’s a box in the car...”

“I’ve got it, Mrs. Puckerman,” Finn said, smiling when she handed over her keys, and his ears were still kind of red, but he didn’t look that much more stupid than usual, so Puck wasn’t surprised that she didn’t seem to notice.

Once he was gone Puck led her down into Rachel’s basement, then he found the spot where everybody was stashing their purses and put his mom’s in the pile. When he turned around again she was staring at the top of his head, and he reached up and felt the baseball cap he’d already forgotten about.

“Oh. Yeah, Rachel’s making me wear it. Sometimes it’s just easier not to argue.”

She nodded like that made sense, but he wasn’t all that sure she was listening. She was still looking around the room like maybe she was expecting strippers or a keg or something, and that was just stupid, because Rachel and Finn’s mom were the ones who’d organized the whole thing.

“Where’s Kurt?”

“The girls dragged him off awhile ago,” Puck answered, glancing across the room just in time to spot Kurt watching him and his mom with his lips kind of pressed together, like maybe he wasn’t sure if he should come over and be polite or save himself. “They’re probably still braiding each other’s hair or something.”

He started to turn back to his mother, but movement on the stairs caught his attention and he glanced over in time to watch Finn struggling to carry a huge box into the room. Right behind him was Schue, carrying his own gift, and bringing up the rear was Coach Beiste. Puck didn’t even know she was invited, and by the looks of things she wasn’t all that thrilled to be there. But he didn’t waste much energy wondering what the story was there, because he was too busy watching Finn set his mom’s gift down in the pile on the table at the back of the room.

“ _You_ got Kurt’s fancy pots and pans?” Puck said, turning to frown at his mother. “Ma, we can’t afford that.”

“It’s a gift, Noah, it’s rude to talk about how much it cost,” she said, then she shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, it’s from your Nana too. At least I know if you’ve got decent cookware, Kurt won’t let you starve in Columbus.”

For a second Puck just stared at her, but when she rolled her eyes and said, “What?” he shook his head and leaned in to brush a kiss across her cheek. “Thanks, Ma.”

“You’re supposed to thank people after you open your presents,” she said, rolling her eyes again, but Puck could see the smile she was trying to hide.

“Fine, then thanks for coming.”

“I’m your mother, Noah,” was all she said, but before he could ask what that meant, exactly, Rachel was shouting for everyone’s attention.

“I’m sure Kurt and Noah will join me in thanking you all for coming today,” she said, waving her hands at both of them like she wanted them to come stand in the middle of the room with her. Puck glanced across the room at Kurt, grinning when he rolled his eyes and shrugged like he was pretty sure they didn’t have a lot of choice.

Puck figured he was probably right about that, and anyway he didn’t mind being front and center if it meant they were getting closer to opening presents. He met Kurt in the center of the room, sliding an arm around his shoulders and planting a kiss on Kurt’s cheek when the rest of Glee cheered.

“I didn’t know your mother was coming,” Kurt said under his breath, but he didn’t try to pull away or tell Puck to stop touching him while his mom was looking, so Puck figured that was progress.

“Me either, babe. Mrs. H invited her,” Puck answered. He glanced across the room at his mom again, watching her pretend she was listening to whatever Finn’s mom was saying to her as she stole glances at him and Kurt. “And get this: she’s the one who bought the pots and pans. Well, her and my Nana.”

For a second Kurt looked kind of speechless, mouth open and glancing across the room at Puck’s mom, but before Puck could ask what the problem was, Rachel was talking again.

“Please help yourself to refreshments,” she said, and Puck was kind of surprised she wasn’t handing out drink tickets again, “and don’t forget to sign the guest book by the stairs. I’ve put together a little game to help us all get to know one another. It involves guessing the name of the Broadway musical stuck to your back using only yes or no answers.”

The whole room let out a collective groan, and Puck was pretty sure the shout of “lame!” from the opposite side of the room came from Santana. Before anybody had a chance to mutiny Mr. Schue was laughing and telling everybody to be a good sport, though, and that was all it took to get Finn on board. A second later he was helping Rachel stick labels on people’s backs, and before Puck could dodge him Finn was smacking a label right in the middle of his back.

“What do I know about musicals?” Puck said, looking at Kurt in time to watch him being dragged away by Rachel this time and spun around so she could stick a label on him too. Kurt shrugged and smiled at him, then he disappeared into a crowd of people again, all of them asking him questions about their musical. And Puck didn’t blame them, because Kurt and Rachel were probably the only ones in the room who knew enough about musicals to answer any questions.

Well, except maybe for Schue, but Finn already had that market cornered, from the looks of things. So Schue was tied up with Finn, waving his hands around like he was acting out whatever show Finn was trying to guess and laughing whenever Finn got it wrong. Kurt was tied up with what looked like the rest of the Glee club, and his mom and Mrs. H were fussing with the refreshments and ditching the game altogether. Which only left one person, and when Puck felt an arm slide through his he swallowed a groan and looked down at Rachel.

“Technically I shouldn’t participate, since I’m the one who came up with the game, but I can see that without my help, we’ll never get to the opening of gifts. Start asking questions, and remember, yes or no only.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Rachel glared at him and let go of his arm to plant her hands on her hips, making the ruffles on her dress shimmy like some kind of drunk peacock. “It’s your shower, Noah. The least you can do is play along.”

“Hey, it was a yes or no question.”

He glanced across the room in Kurt’s direction, and when he found Kurt looking back at him Puck grinned. He rolled his eyes and nodded in Rachel’s direction, and Kurt smiled back at him before Mike grabbed his arm and spun around to make Kurt read his label.

So it was a pretty lame party, and their chances of getting out of Rachel’s basement any time soon were pretty slim. But there were still presents to open, and there was always the chance Puck would manage to get Kurt alone for a few minutes when no one was looking, and Puck figured that was worth whatever else Rachel had in store for them.


	23. Chapter 23

It took Kurt about twenty minutes to ditch the sash where he was fairly sure Rachel wouldn’t look for it. It helped that she was distracted making sure everyone participated in her ridiculous game instead of just telling each other the answers and going back to the conversations they’d been having before Rachel’s forced interaction. Still, he knew she wouldn’t miss his absence for long, and if he didn’t want someone capturing that ridiculous sash on film he had to move quickly.

He’d just finished stashing it behind a cushion on the living room couch when he heard the front door open, then his dad’s voice calling out. “Hello?”

“In here, Dad,” Kurt answered as he made his way back out to the hallway. His father was standing in the foyer, closing the door behind him and looking around like he’d suddenly stepped into a foreign country. And granted, Rachel’s fathers had a much different aesthetic than his own, so Kurt wasn’t that surprised at his reaction.

“Kurt? Where is everyone?”

“In the basement,” Kurt said, glancing over his shoulder at the living room where he hoped the sash would stay lost until long after he was in Columbus. “I was just dealing with a small wardrobe malfunction.”

He turned back to his father at the same moment that the door to the basement opened, and a second later Puck appeared in the hallway. “Babe, it’s time for the presents and Rachel’s freaking...oh. Hey, Mr. H.”

“I think it’s about time you start calling me Burt, son.”

It was no big deal. Finn had been calling his dad Burt since their parents first started dating, after all. But Kurt knew that his dad thought of Finn as a son, as much as Kurt hated to admit it. So hearing his father suggest that Puck call him by his first name the same way Finn did...well, it didn’t mean Burt was ready to start referring to Puck as his son-in-law, but it was close enough.

Kurt blinked a few times and told himself the stinging in his eyes was just from all the excitement of the day. He looked over at Puck, reaching out to take his hand and when Puck’s fingers slid through his and squeezed, he swallowed and turned back to his father.

“Thanks for coming, Dad.”

“You’re my son, Kurt,” his dad said, shrugging and glancing toward the basement door. “Sorry I’m late; I got held up at the shop.”

You’re just in time for the presents, apparently,” Kurt answered. “All you really missed was Rachel’s idea of a party game, and the less said about that, the better.”

“Babe, it wasn’t that bad,” Puck said, gripping his hand a little harder to tug him toward the stairs.

“Only because I finally told you the name of your show to save us all from spending the entire day waiting for you to figure it out,” Kurt answered. “Honestly, how Finn thought you’d ever guess _Bat Boy: The Musical_ I’ll never know.”

“Yeah, I totally should have gotten that other one… _Naked_ or whatever.”

“ _Bare_.”

“Exactly,” Puck said, smirking at him and Kurt turned bright red and didn’t look over his shoulder to see if his father was listening.

They led him down the stairs to the Berrys’ Oscar room, and as soon as Kurt saw the pair of chairs in the center of the room he groaned. He felt Puck’s hand squeeze his a little tighter, then another hand landed on his shoulder and Kurt looked up to find his dad smiling almost sympathetically.

“I’m going to find your stepmother. Good luck.”

The way he said it told Kurt that what he really meant was _better you than me _, and Kurt could hardly blame him, especially when Rachel spotted them and pushed them down into the chairs before she started shouting directions at Finn and Mr. Schuester, who were apparently in charge of the actual distribution of the gifts.__

“Honestly, does she have to make such a production of everything?” Kurt said under his breath, arms crossed over his chest and watching Rachel run down her list of gifts before she pointed out the first one to be opened.

“She’s having a good time. Just think about the presents, babe,” Puck said again, arm sliding around Kurt’s shoulder to pull him a little closer.

“I’m starting to think you only married me for the presents.”

Puck’s laugh was low and close to his ear, sending a little shiver down Kurt’s spine and making him wish they weren’t currently trapped in a room full of their family and friends. “I married you for your fantastic ass. The rest is just a bonus.”

Kurt felt his entire face flush and hoped that anyone who noticed would attribute it to the fact that he was being forced to sit in the center of the room while everyone who cared about them formed a half-circle around them to watch the show. Anyway, he knew that wasn’t the real reason Puck had married him. Puck married him because Kurt had promised to love him forever, and that was a promise Kurt fully intended to keep.

He smiled and glanced over at Puck, and when Kurt found Puck looking right back at him, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. Instantly the cat calls started up in the back of the room – from Sam and Mike and possibly Santana – but Kurt didn’t really mind. He didn’t mind that his father and Puck’s mother were watching too, because Puck was his husband, and Puck was right when he said they’d have to get used to it eventually.

“What was that for?” Puck asked, one eyebrow raised and Kurt smiled and reached up to grip Puck’s hand where it still rested on his shoulder.

“Do I need a reason to kiss my husband?”

Puck laughed at that, thumb sliding across Kurt’s wedding ring as he leaned in and pressed another kiss to the corner of Kurt’s mouth. “No, babe. You can kiss me any time you want.”

Rachel cleared her throat loud enough to make Kurt roll his eyes, and Puck grinned and leaned back in his chair again. “Since I graciously agreed to host Kurt and Noah’s wedding shower, I feel it’s only appropriate that they open my gift first.”

Puck laughed again when Kurt rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair, arm still resting on Kurt’s shoulders as Rachel took the gift Mr. Schuester handed her and smiled. She looked so pleased with herself that Kurt knew immediately it wasn’t something from their registry, and he closed his eyes for a second and hoped he was a good enough actor to pull this off.

“Kurt and Noah, as the daughter of two gay men, I’m thrilled to help you celebrate your commitment to each other. I realize we’ve all had our ups and downs over the years, but I hope we’ll always be friends. This is just a little something I’ve put together to help remind you both of where you started.”

She handed over the box with another smile, even brighter this time, and Kurt took a deep breath and glanced at Puck before he slowly tore the paper open. Inside was a large, square box with no department store markings, and Kurt knew it wasn’t a set of the dishes he’d picked out. He pulled the top off the box and unfolded a layer of tissue paper, his eyes going wide at the sight in front of him.

“Oh dear God, she bedazzled it.”

Puck leaned close, chest pressed against Kurt’s back and looking over his shoulder at the scrapbook Carole had warned Kurt about. He was fairly sure that it had been white at some point, but that was before Rachel got her hands on it. One of their wedding pictures had been printed out and set in the middle of the cover, a silver ribbon glued around the edges making up a sort of frame, and around the ribbon was a raised line of purple glitter glue.

She’d written “Noah and Kurt” in glitter glue across the top of the cover, and under the picture was the date of their wedding in sparkly purple letters. Kurt braced himself and opened the cover to find a copy of the picture he’d framed for Puck looking up at them. It was framed in more silver ribbon, but at least this time Rachel had skipped the glitter glue in favor of a black felt-tip pen. Rachel had written “Our Wedding” under the picture in careful cursive, and it would have been almost elegant if she hadn’t stuck random stickers around the edges of the page.

The stickers seemed to have some kind of wedding theme; there were little cartoon images of a set of wedding rings, and a pair of grooms wedding topper that had clearly started out as a bride and groom, but Rachel had cut the tiny cartoon brides off and stuck the grooms together instead.

“Once everyone’s signed the page I put out to act as a guestbook we can add it to the book,” Rachel said with a pointed glance at Kurt’s father. “That way you’ll be able to look back on your wedding and the shower and remember all the people who love you.”

“It’s awesome, Rachel, thanks,” Puck said, and Kurt carefully closed the scrapbook. He could live without the purple glitter, certainly, and even the stickers were a little much, but he knew Rachel had put a lot of thought into it, so he didn’t even have to fake a smile as he stood up to hug Rachel.

“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled and hugged him tight for a second. Then she let go and hugged Puck before she pushed them both back into their chairs.

“This next gift is from Kurt’s parents,” Rachel announced, stepping out of the way to let Finn set a large, beautifully wrapped box in front of them. Kurt scanned the room for his dad and Carole, smiling at both of them before he turned back to the coffee maker he knew was inside. It seemed a shame to ruin the gorgeous paper, but he tugged the ribbon open anyway and then tore the paper open to reveal the coffee maker they’d registered for.

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Carole,” Kurt said, smiling at them both again.

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. and Mrs. H,” Puck added, arm sliding around Kurt’s shoulders again. “I’ve seen Kurt decaffeinated; it’s not pretty.”

Kurt scowled and smacked Puck in the center of the chest, but Puck just laughed along with everyone else in the room and dragged Kurt close enough to press a kiss to his cheek. By the time he finished struggling Finn and Mr. Schuester were setting a large box in front of them, and Kurt could tell it was the pots and pans he hadn’t expected to receive.

Thanks to Puck he already knew who’d bought them, but it was still a little unnerving to look up and find Puck’s mother watching them as though she was afraid they’d be disappointed. Kurt let Puck pull the wrapping off the box, tearing through it with such enthusiasm that Kurt laughed along with everyone else in spite of the lump currently residing in his throat. When he saw the coveted pots and pans he swallowed and looked up, seeking out Puck’s mother and clearing his throat before he spoke.

“Thank you,” he said. “We’ll get plenty of use out of them.”

“Yeah, Ma, you don’t have to worry about me going hungry with Kurt around,” Puck said. He let go of Kurt long enough to cross the room and brush a kiss across his mother’s cheek, and when she reached up and patted his arm Kurt’s chest tightened.

A few seconds later Puck was sliding back into the chair next to Kurt, and when Kurt reached for his hand Puck’s fingers closed around his and squeezed. Finn slid the pots and pans out of the way as Rachel called for the next gift, and Kurt let go of Puck to pull the paper off the dishes most of the Glee kids had pooled their money to buy. After that was Sam’s blender, then Finn’s waffle iron, which was weirdly sweet and unexpectedly thoughtful, especially coming from Finn.

Kurt rolled his eyes when Finn pointed out the fact that the waffles were heart-shaped, mostly because there would hardly be romantic breakfasts in their apartment with Finn living there too. Still, it was a nice thought, and Puck certainly seemed excited at the prospect of waffles.

He set the waffle iron aside as Schue stepped forward, another gift in his hand. “This one’s from me and Coach Beiste. Congratulations, guys.”

Kurt watched Schue’s gaze slide across the room in his father’s direction, and he didn’t really blame Schue for being nervous, because Kurt knew for a fact that his dad still wasn’t that thrilled about Schue’s role in his getting married. But he’d promised Finn he wouldn’t make a scene at the shower, and so far he seemed to be sticking with his promise.

Kurt glanced at Finn, watching him glance back and forth between Schue and Coach Beiste. He was frowning a little, and Kurt wasn’t sure what that was about, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to know.

“Thanks, Mr. Schue,” he said instead, smiling up at Schue for a second.

“Yeah, thanks, Coach,” Puck added, leaning forward to glance at Beiste over Kurt’s shoulder.

Coach Beiste nodded and glanced at Kurt’s father for a second before she turned back to them. And that was a little strange too, but Kurt _really_ didn’t want to know. Instead he tore the paper open, gasping when he caught sight of the label on the package.

They’d known for days that _someone_ bought the sheets he wanted, but he’d assumed it was Artie and Brittany and some of the others pooling their money to get them the one thing on their registry that was vaguely related to sex. Kurt felt his cheeks flush and glanced at Puck, but he just shrugged and leaned back in his chair again.

“Mr. Schue, I don’t know what to say. This is so generous,” Kurt said, looking up at their teacher in time to catch him blushing.

“Well, Finn said you really had your heart set on them. And like I said, Shannon chipped in.”

And okay, it was a little strange, getting bedding from their teachers, but there was no way Kurt was giving it up. He carefully avoided looking at his father as he set the sheets aside, then he looked up at Mr. Schue again and smiled. “They’re wonderful. Thank you both.”

Before Schue could stammer his way through any more explanations, Rachel clapped her hands together and looked around the room. “That just leaves Kurt and Noah’s gifts for each other. Noah, if you’re ready?”

“Yeah,” Puck said, and Kurt frowned and turned to watch Puck stand up and run his hands over the front of his jeans. “Thanks, Rach.”

Before Kurt could ask what Puck was doing he was heading for the stage, picking up the guitar Kurt hadn’t noticed earlier and taking his place behind Rachel’s bedazzled microphone. Kurt’s heart hammered in his chest when he realized what was happening, and he glanced toward the table where his framed photo was still waiting to be opened. It felt even more like the lamest wedding gift ever now, but before Kurt could panic too much Puck was talking.

“I’ve never done this whole ‘getting hitched’ thing before, so I wasn’t sure what to get you, babe. Then I figured since we kind of hooked up because of Glee, maybe I should just write you a song. Anyway, I hope you like it.”

~

It was probably pretty stupid to be nervous. Kurt had heard him sing plenty of times, after all, and he’d even heard some of the stuff Puck had written while they were in Glee together. But this was the first time Puck had written a song for Kurt, and it was the first time anybody besides him had heard it.

He kept his eyes locked on Kurt while he strummed the first few chords, watching the way his eyes got kind of shiny and the way he pressed his fingers to his mouth like when he used to sing a sad song in Glee and get all choked up in the middle. Puck smiled and shook his head, then he leaned in to the mic and started singing.

The lyrics kind of made him think of lying on a blanket by the lake with Kurt, just staring up at the sky and talking about the future – their future – while Kurt ran his fingers across Puck’s scalp or traced patterns in his neck with his fingers. The way he always felt safe with Kurt in a way that had never mattered to him before, but now that Puck had felt it, he knew he never wanted to give it up.

He closed his eyes and belted out the start of the chorus, singing about letting the world know that Kurt’s love was all he needed, and yeah, it was kind of cheesy, but he meant it all the same.

When he opened his eyes again Kurt was crying for real, but he was kind of smiling too, and Puck figured that was a good sign. So he kept going, looking away from Kurt long enough to seek out his mom in the crowd. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever heard him sing; he messed around at home plenty of times, and he’d spent enough time up in his room with his guitar that she had to hear him practicing.

But it was the first time she’d watched him perform, and if the look on her face was anything to go by, she didn’t hate it. Puck smiled and looked back at Kurt again, holding his gaze while he sang the second verse. It was about trying to find a place in the world and making the same mistakes over and over, about thinking about throwing in the towel a few times, like after he gave up his daughter.

Being with Kurt changed all that, though, and Puck wanted him to know it. He wanted Kurt to know that no matter where they were or what they were doing, they were going to be okay as long as they had each other’s backs. That was what he meant when he wrote the lyrics, when he came up with _and if we’re lost/then we are lost together_ , and he held Kurt’s gaze while he sang the lines one last time.

When he finished he set his guitar down in its stand, smiling at the applause from the rest of the room while he waited for Kurt to say something. Kurt wiped at his eyes with the heel of his palm, then he took a couple steps forward and let Puck pull him onto the stage. Everybody was still watching, including their parents, but Puck didn’t really care. All he cared about was what Kurt thought of the song, and when Kurt flashed another watery smile and let Puck pull him close, he figured that meant Kurt liked it.

“Noah, that was...” Kurt paused for a second, like maybe he was trying to find the right words.

“Awesome? Totally kick-ass. The best song you ever heard,” Puck said, grinning when Kurt laughed.

“All of the above. Also sweet and romantic and way better than my gift, you jerk. All I did was buy a frame for our wedding photo.”

He said it like it was no big deal, but the thing was, Puck was there for the wedding, and he was there the next morning when Kurt couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He was there when Kurt announced to all of Glee that they weren’t really married, and he was there for Kurt’s meltdown when he thought fucking up his signature meant their wedding didn’t really count.

He watched Kurt go from treating Puck like he was diseased to standing up to his own dad for Puck, and knowing that Kurt took them seriously enough to want their wedding picture framed for them to see all the time…well, it was a pretty big deal to Puck. He opened his mouth to say so, but before he got the words out they were surrounded by people, hands on their shoulders and Puck heard Schue and Finn and even Rachel congratulating him on his song.

And it was cool and all, but he didn’t really care what anybody but Kurt thought. He thanked them anyway, turning to nod at Schue and laugh when he suggested that maybe they would have won Nationals if they’d just let Puck write the music. When he turned back Kurt was surrounded by Mercedes and the rest of the girls again, and when their eyes met Kurt smiled and gave him a little shrug.

“Thank you, Noah,” Rachel said over the noise, reaching for the microphone and sort of shoving him out of the way. “And now if you and Kurt will have a seat, the rest of us have prepared a musical number of our own.”

It wasn’t a surprise or anything; he knew as well as anybody else that Rachel wasn’t going to let somebody else have the spotlight for too long, even at his and Kurt’s wedding shower. He shrugged and jumped off the stage, then he reached for Kurt’s hand and pulled him offstage too. They took their seats and watched the rest of the Glee club line up behind Rachel, and when Schue pressed play on the CD player Puck groaned.

Kurt laughed next to him and slid his arm around Puck’s shoulders this time, leaning close enough to whisper, “They must have let Schue help choose the music.”

When Finn came in on the chorus of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” to sort of growl his way through a verse of “White Wedding” they knew for sure Schue was involved, because there was nobody else who’d even try to mash up those two songs. Puck laughed and leaned into Kurt’s side, fingers tapping out the beat against Kurt’s thigh.

The round of applause they got was almost as loud as the one for Puck. Not that they didn’t deserve it; they had to have spent a decent amount of their own time rehearsing over the past week. Which meant Schue gave up his free time to help them out, and knowing that made the number even better.

They were still laughing about Schue’s weird history of mash-ups when somebody shouted, “Karaoke!”, and before Puck knew it Kurt was being dragged off by Mercedes for the third time. This time he ended up on stage, hand clasped in Mercedes’ and singing one of those songs they loved about being friends forever or whatever.

Puck was still watching them when a hand landed on his shoulder, and he looked over to find himself face to face with Kurt’s dad. “Hey, Mr…uh…Burt.”

“Son,” Burt said, nodding and glancing toward the stage where Kurt and Mercedes were still singing. “Enjoying the party?”

“It’s okay,” Puck answered, because there wasn’t any beer or anything, but there was Kurt, and that was pretty much all that mattered. “This is pretty much it for the rest of the day, though. Once they start singing, it’s hard to shut them up again.”

Burt laughed like maybe he had some experience with this crowd and performing, and Puck figured he probably did. Kurt had been into the whole Glee thing before Puck ever was, after all, and his dad had always been more involved than Puck’s mom was.

“Listen, son, that was a nice thing you did for Kurt. I know he appreciated it.” Burt cleared his throat and glanced at the stage again, then back at Puck.

Puck shrugged and looked up at Kurt, catching his eye and grinning when Kurt smiled at him. “Yeah, well, I meant it.”

Burt nodded like he really believed Puck, and that was something he could get used to.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told Kurt: You two are welcome in my house any time.”

“Thanks,” Puck said, blinking and he wasn’t going to cry about it or anything, but it was pretty cool to hear Kurt’s dad tell Puck he wanted him around.

“You’re family now, Noah. Kurt loves you, and that’s good enough for me.”

He squeezed Puck’s shoulder one more time, then he walked away, back toward the refreshment table where Carole was standing guard over the punch bowl in case anybody got any ideas. Puck laughed at the thought, shaking his head and looking back up at the stage in time to watch Kurt step down and walk toward him.

“What was that about?” Kurt asked when he reached Puck, and he was looking at his dad, but he let Puck slide an arm around his waist.

“Nothing,” Puck answered. “Your dad was just welcoming me to the family.”

“Oh.” For a second Kurt looked a little surprised, then he blinked and smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to Puck’s lips. “I told you he was coming around.”

“Yeah,” Puck said, hand sliding around Kurt’s neck to pull him into another kiss. “Look, can we…?”

That was as far as he got before Finn’s voice echoed over the room, and they both turned to watch him gripping Rachel’s sparkly pink microphone and pointing at Mr. Schuester. “You know, Mr. Schue, you’ve never sung a duet with me.”

Everybody turned to look at Schue, watching his eyes kind of go wide, then his mouth sort of twitch at the corners before he glanced over at Coach and stopped smiling. He shook his head and looked up at Finn again, arms crossed over his chest and it was sort of pathetic, how bad he wanted to get up there and sing.

The rest of Glee was chanting his name, and with Sam and Mike pushing him forward he didn’t really have a chance. Puck could tell he was about to cave anyway; he was as bad as Rachel when it came to the spotlight, after all, and he was worse than her when it came to Finn. Sure enough, a minute later Schue was holding up his hands in surrender and letting Finn pull him up onstage, reaching for the mic Finn held out to him and smiling at him like Finn just proposed or something.

“Okay, okay, one song,” he said, turning to face the crowd and making the face that meant he’d be up there all day if somebody didn’t kick him off the stage. “What are we singing?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Schue, you know this one,” Finn said, and when the opening notes of “Don’t Stop Believin’” played, Puck snorted a laugh and let go of Kurt to grab his present off the table.

When he got back to Kurt his dad was standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest and kind of frowning at the stage while Finn and Schue sang to each other. And it would have been pretty funny, except that Mr. H – Burt – sort of looked like he was thinking about breaking Schue’s jaw.

“What exactly is going on with those two?”

“Nothing,” Kurt lied, but even he looked a little confused when Finn launched into “Any Way You Want It”. “They’re…friends, apparently.”

“Schuester’s your _teacher_ , Kurt,” Burt said, still staring at the stage where Finn was singing to Schue about holding somebody all night, and yeah, okay, that was a little weird, even for Finn. “Why’s he singing love songs with your brother? And why’s he buying you sheets?”

“Schue just really likes Journey.” Kurt turned away from the stage, face flushed and Puck had to work hard to stifle a laugh. “Honestly, Dad, he probably asked Finn what we wanted most from the registry, and Finn told him about the sheets. It’s kind of sweet, if you think about it.”

Burt didn’t look all that convinced, and Puck didn’t really blame him. In fact, he was starting to look kind of pissed, and when Finn’s hand landed on Schue’s shoulder and Burt made a move for the stage, Puck reached out and grabbed Kurt’s hand.

“Babe, let’s get out of here for awhile.”

“Noah, I can’t, my dad…”

“Your dad’s fine, Kurt. Mrs. H isn’t going to let him kill Schue. Come on, I want to open my present.”

“You already know what it is,” Kurt said, but he let Puck pull him up the stairs and down the hall, into Rachel’s room and closing the door behind them.

He pulled Kurt down onto the edge of Rachel’s bed, thighs pressed together while Puck set Kurt’s present in his lap and pulled the card out from under the ribbon Kurt had tied around it. He glanced over at Kurt, taking in pink cheeks and the way Kurt’s teeth dug into his bottom lip.

Puck grinned and opened the envelope, then he pulled the card out. It didn’t have a cheesy poem or flowers on it or anything, but it was pretty sappy anyway. It was also the first cheesy Hallmark card anybody had ever bothered to give him, unless he counted the one his Nana gave him on his Bar Mitzvah with fifty bucks tucked inside. Puck hadn’t even read that one; he’d just pocketed the cash and tossed the card aside to move on to his next present.

He read this one, huffing a soft laugh at the words “Now and Forever” printed on the front. He glanced at Kurt, taking in slightly pinker cheeks and Kurt’s defiant expression, then he flipped the card open and read the rest. “The only two times I want to spend with you” was printed on the inside, and it was still just a cheesy greeting card, but Puck’s heart kind of stuttered anyway.

Under the printing was Kurt’s own writing, neat and compact and the letters kind of swam in his vision a little until Puck blinked a few times. _Noah, I can’t imagine sharing my life with anyone but you. I love you more than I can say. Kurt._

He cleared his throat and looked over at Kurt, one hand sliding into Kurt’s hair to pull him forward for a kiss. “I love you too, babe.”

“It’s just a card,” Kurt said, blushing all over again and Puck laughed against his mouth and kissed him harder this time.

And he still hadn’t opened his present, but it didn’t seem so important when Kurt was kissing him back. His arms slid around Puck’s shoulders, one hand sliding up his neck to pull Rachel’s stupid cap off and toss it on the bed. Puck laughed against his mouth for the second time, hands on Kurt’s waist and easing him back down onto the mattress.

“Noah,” Kurt said, and Puck heard the warning in his voice, but he was kind of breathless too, and that meant he didn’t really want to stop. “Our parents and all of our friends are right downstairs.”

“So?” Puck said, breathing the words against Kurt’s neck as he kissed his way from Kurt’s ear to the top of his collar. “It’s our wedding shower, babe. Everybody expects us to sneak off somewhere and make out.”

“Actually, I think they expect us to stand around looking ridiculous while they take embarrassing pictures to blackmail us with later in life,” Kurt said. Puck laughed against his neck and slid a hand down Kurt’s side, and he’d just started tugging Kurt’s shirt out of his jeans when somebody knocked on the door.

“Fuck,” Puck muttered, eyes sliding closed and pressing his forehead to Kurt’s for a second before he turned his head to shout in the direction of the door. “This room’s taken.”

As soon as he said it the door opened, and a second later Sam was grinning at them. “Sorry, guys, but you might want to get back downstairs. Rachel’s trying to distract Kurt’s dad from strangling Schue with his bare hands, but she says we can’t cut the cake without you.”

Puck opened his mouth to tell Sam exactly what Rachel could do with her cake, but before he got the words out Kurt’s hand landed on his mouth. He was still trapped under Puck, and yeah, when Puck looked down at him he was blushing harder than ever.

“Tell Rachel we’ll be right down,” Kurt said, then he shoved hard at Puck’s chest until he let Kurt up. Sam grinned and nodded before he closed the door again, and it was kind of weird, how much he was enjoying this, but Puck didn’t point it out. “So much for Finn providing a distraction.”

Puck laughed and reached for the still-wrapped present he’d set on the bed, tugging the bow open and then tearing the paper off. He held up the framed picture of the two of them, grinning at the familiar image for a second before he looked at Kurt again. “Thanks, babe. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, but he leaned against Puck, head on his shoulder and looking down at the picture. “We do look good together.”

“We _are_ good together.”

Kurt’s mouth curved into a little smile and he reached for Puck’s hand, sliding their fingers together and tilting his head to look up at Puck. “We look married.”

“Yeah.” Puck grinned and leaned close enough to brush their lips together, then he pulled back and looked at the picture again. “Guess it’s a good thing we are then, huh?”

Kurt laughed and gave him a playful shove, then he stood up and held out a hand to pull Puck to his feet. Puck’s hands landed on his hips, pulling him close and leaning in for another chaste kiss.

“It’s the best mistake I’ve ever made,” Kurt said, whispering the words against Puck’s cheek, and he felt Kurt’s mouth curve into a smile against his skin.

“Good, because you’re stuck with me, Hummel, and you better not forget it.”

“That’s Hummel-Puckerman, thank you,” Kurt answered, lips brushing the bottom of Puck’s ear and sending a shiver down his spine.

Puck grinned and reached for Kurt’s hand, thumb finding his ring and tracing the warm metal before he answered. “Yeah, I like the sound of that.”


End file.
